


from which stars have we fallen

by faulty_expectations



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attack of New York, Chitauri - Freeform, Emotional, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Love, Mention of Death, OC, PTSD, Peter is a dork, Prison, Psychological, Sad, Steve Is the Best, The Raft, Tony Stark can stop, Torture, Trauma, Violence, best friend Peter Parker, female oc - Freeform, super powers, teleporter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faulty_expectations/pseuds/faulty_expectations
Summary: “So if you were one of them, one of the Avengers, you wouldn’t sign the accords?” Peter asked.“No Pete, I wouldn’t. If we signed those accords they wouldn’t let us save the little people, don’t you see? They’d only send us out for the big shit, to stop the world killers and manipulators, but then there’d be nobody left to save us!"-----------------------------------In which Magdalena "Lena" Ruiz just wants to protect her best friend, but can't stop getting sucked into the world of vigilantes, war criminals, and depressed heroes. I guess she didn't realize she had more in common with them than she thought.Starting in CA:CW and eventually working through IW, slow burn Steve/OC centric fic





	1. Tutor Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is my very first posted fanfic. I swear I've started around 10 of them over the years, but here we go! I'm excited.  
> Lena has been in the back of my mind forever and it's nice to finally give life to her and her shenanigans. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I hope to post a new chapter every Monday.  
> It starts off kind of at the beginning of Civil War and then takes off from there. 
> 
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

“I swear to god Pete, if you don’t show up in the next 5 minutes I’m gonna rat your ass out to your aunt, don’t push me Parker.”

I left another voice message on Peter’s cell, and struggled to shove my way through the throngs of people trying to get through the station.

My phone was slipping in my hand, makeup and sweat marring the glossy screen from being pressed between shoulder and ear. My eye twitched in annoyance as another person rammed into my side, the strap of my backpack sliding down my arm. 

The arched ceilings glinted with the setting sun, and I had to squint, the glare making it even hard to search for Peter. People ran here and there trying to get to their trains on time, and glancing up, I caught the time, and groaned. Of course it was rush hour. 

Hefting my backpack onto my shoulder once more, I grunted as a greasy looking guy slammed into me, my backpack flying off my shoulder, and his soda sloshing out the corner of his cup to land in a sticky puddle by my boots. I swung, a snarl curved on my lips, but stopped as the backpack rounded behind me, hitting a woman in the face. 

Not bothering to say sorry, I darted through a gap in the mob to escape, getting more peeved every time someone so much as brushed my elbow.

I caught my breath, wiping my sweaty palms against my pants as I leaned against a pale wall near Shake Shack. The smell of greasy burgers and fries making my stomach grumble.

Class got out early today, but between homework and work there wasn't really time to keep a steady meal schedule. Every day, I ate breakfast with Nana, and then ate left overs by the time I got home. That was that. 

Checking the time on my phone, my eyes flickered over the crowd searching for any little sign of Peter's bobbing head. It was 6:07, he was only 7 minutes late...so far. 

I stifled a yawn under my hand, my eyes already beginning to droop. I still had a paper to write tonight. 

The station was stifling, the air too thin, and the backpack pressed between me and the wall slicking my back with sweat. I felt an itch in my body, and my hands felt fidgety. God, just the thought of slipping into my bed at home and falling asleep made me swoon. 

Why is Peter always late, what does this kid get up to? 

Power crackled down my spine, and landed in my palms. If I closed my eyes I could feel the electric current of otherness pulse in my grip, and could picture the comforting blue sheen cover my hands like I was used to. 

I took a steadying breath through my nose, some of the noise had drowned to the background and I felt like I was suspended in air. I  _knew_ that if I opened my eyes and looked down I'd see blue streaks running through my knuckles and sparking between fingers. and I  _knew_ with a certainty that if I put even the smallest bit of  _will_ into it, a portal would open between my hands and take me home. 

No. I opened my eyes, and watched the blue zigzags of energy slip from my hands and fizzle out. I can't rely on my powers all the time. I can't use them as an out for everything I do. 

I huffed in annoyance, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. What was the point of having teleportation powers if I don't use them? and yet, if I use them too much what does that make me? 

 

Shrugging, I crossed one ankle over another and moved to slide my phone back into my pocket but stopped as I caught sight of Peter sliding his way through the crowded station. He grimaced, sucking in air as he moved smoothly through gaps and holes where people were rushing by him, his hair was messy, a cowlick on one side making his head look lopsided. I couldn't help the grin that tugged at my lips as his face broke into a smile when we met eyes. 

He stuck his hand out to wave and immediately smacked it into some tough looking guy in a gray suit. The man grunted, his sweaty bald head rounding around quickly, and the skin on one side a violent red from Peter's slap. Peter's face made a perfect 'o' before he ducked, twisting around the man and sliding next to me on the wall.  The guy didn’t even see what hit him.

Snickering, I shoved my arms through the straps of my backpack and turned toward the teen.

“Pete, glad you could make it” I said, reaching up to ruffle his already tousled brown hair.

Batting my hand away Peter bounced up on his tiptoes, he hadn't even broken a sweat “I’m only 10 minutes late this time! Ned made a mess in chem labs today and we both had to stay behind to clean it up, _and_  had to apologize to the kid I kinda spilled web fluid on, which was actually really hilarious, he couldn’t get his hands off this girl’s-”

“Woah, okay Pete, just give me a heads up next time, butterfingers.” I yelled through the loud terminal hall “Why did you want to meet here anyway?” 

Peter's gaze darted around the terminal before he waved me in a different direction. We both made our way down a more secluded hallway, Peter looking over his shoulder every couple of paces to make sure I was following him. Only five or six guys in tailored suits jogged past us hoping to catch their train. Our shoes let out squeaking echoes on the polished tile. 

Once Peter made sure nobody else was within earshot he tugged his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped it quickly, pulling out a severely crumpled piece of paper. Peter's hair was sticking up in the weirdest places, and his cheeks were dusted with a little pink from his excitement. His green hoodie was slipping on his shoulders and one of the strings looked like it had been chewed on. 

“Okay, so during lunch today I was talking to Gwen, and she said her dad, you know Captain Stacy, was talking to some buddies of his still down at the precinct and that they had busted these guys for selling some type of tech enhanced by the chitauri weapons they found after the whole alien wormhole thing a couple years ago, but that they hadn’t found hardly any of the weapons on them when they were arrested because apparently, according to their source, they had _way_ more weapons before when they were terrorizing people near Park ave. and 44th, and so since I thought ‘Hey, Grand Central is near Park ave. and 44th’ it just makes sense that they’d have their secret alien weapons base in some abandoned terminal in the station!” Peter gushed in one breath. 

He smoothed out his crumpled sheet against his thigh and showed me the somewhat detailed map of Grand Central. He had messily circled some terminals, which I assumed were older ones or ones that were currently unused.

I pinched my nose and took a deep breath, my annoying eye twitch starting up again. “So let me get this straight, you heard from your girlfriend-” I held up a hand as Peter tried to grumble that Stacy _wasn’t_ his girlfriend “-that some evil guys who _might_  have had shifty alien weapons were arrested, and some other guy said those same guys had a massive weapons cache, and apparently they used to hit up Park and 44th near Grand Central but also there could literally be nothing here Peter, this is just a hunch dude! You dragged me here during rush hour for a hunch.” I stated, slipping my bag back onto my shoulder. The strap was chafing against my shoulder and bumped a yellowing bruise that was covering the back of my arm. 

This was a waste of time, I've got homework to do, and Nana was probably making dinner at home. I shot Peter an obnoxious glare and then made to push off the wall and head home. 

“Wait, Lena!” Peter yelled, grabbing hold of the edge of my dark sweater. “ Come on, we could definitely at least check some of the abandoned terminals! Think about it, You wouldn’t want some evil assholes to get away with their evil plan right? What happened to saving the little guys?”

Goddamn it, Parker. The little shit knew exactly what to say to get my to go along. 

Scoffing, I pressed my palms hard into my eyes, not even wanting to think about the essay I had due tomorrow for class.

“Ugh...fine Peter, we'll just _check_  each site and take a look around, see if there's any alien shit around, which I doubt there will be, and then I’m going home, I’m exhausted.” I growled.

I yanked my backpack around to my front as Peter seemed to burst with excitement. Unzipping the bag I could see the wrinkled mess of my “suit” puddled at the bottom. I didn’t bother to wash it since Peter and I went patrolling around Queens only two nights ago. Turning my neck too fast still sent a  _zing_ of pain through my back from that harsh landing I tried to pull with Pete the other night. What can I say? I though dropping three stories through a magic blue portal would work out just fine. 

“We gotta stop doing this so often, Pete. I swear the amount of times I tell my Nana that I’m tutoring you, she probably thinks you’re dumber than a box of nails.” I laugh. “Okay, go change into your ‘spidey suit’ and I’ll meet you back out here in 5.” I barely got three words out before Peter yanked his shirt up to reveal he was already wearing his suit. “Oh, Pete, you're such a  dork.”

The women’s bathroom was empty and the low flickering lights made it look even more sketchy than it already was. 

Quickly, I made work to kick off my jeans and beat up boots, only shuddering a bit at the stickiness on my hand after I had to catch my balance on the stained wall. Yanking my sweater off, I pulled my suit out of my backpack.

The dark grey athletic shirt was a bit frayed on the edges, and the collar was definitely stretched out from too many hasty tugs to get it over my big head, but it held up. I pulled it down over my torso. 

Blue yoga pants melded to my legs, a white racing stripe up both sides. Blue was kinda my color.

I tied my half my hair back from my face. The edges left down barely tickled the tops of shoulders. The dark brown waves made the angles of my face stand stark against the grey shirt.

Lacing up my scuffed running shoes, I tried to smooth my hair out again, as rogue strands curled over my forehead and by my neck.  

I snuck a glance at myself in the mirror, I was always cautious, not really knowing the person that would stare back at me. The bathroom mirror was cracked, and ran a ragged line right down through my chest, tapering off near my right thigh. 

The woman that looked back at me only looked a bit like 22 year old Lena Ruiz. You put the outfit on, and you kinda become a different person. Hero was too strong a word in my opinion. 

I could almost pretend I was just going out to the gym.

I pulled the crumpled black bandana out of a pocket in my backpack and slowly tied it around my neck, pulling it slowly up to cover my mouth and nose. Only my eyes shone back at me in the mirror, and their normal brown seemed to darken to ebony in the shadowed bathroom.

Although Peter and I had been doing this for a bit over a year, the shift into the mask always left me with a shiver down my spine and a tightening in my gut. Bandana goes on, and somebody was going to get hurt. 

Making sure my other clothes were zipped in tight I stored my backpack behind a toilet and hoped nobody would steal it.

The hallway was dim when I exited the bathroom, it seemed the sun had finally set in New York City. I could clearly see Peter shifting nervously in a dark corner down below. He already had his suit on, and the dim lighting glinted off his funny looking goggles. 

Shaking my head, I chuckled as Peter practiced his webbing, shooting out his arms and hands and slipping in a crouch. 

I cracked my knuckles, and then smiled as the blue electricity sparked in my palms before I made a portal to my right. 

With my hands held in front of me, I shaped the portal into a large oval. Rounding my fingers and spreading them out, like I was zooming out on a giant picture. 

I could clearly see Peter through the blue smudged hole shifting back and forth and looking for me over his shoulder.

My grin spread into a full out smirk as I thrust my arm into the opening and grabbed Peter by the back of the shirt and yanked him toward me. He let out a gurgled yelp and then stumbled over his feet as he appeared right in front of me. 

I could only laugh at his annoyed shouts as he waved his arms back and forth like he was trying to convince himself not to throttle me.

“How many times have I told you not to yank me through your freaky time void without letting me know first. I think I peed a little.” He pulled his mask up over his nose so he could heave in deep breaths and rested his forearms on his knees, his cheeks were a bright pink.

“Oh come on, you know you love it.” Still laughing I slapped my arm over his hunched shoulders, and tugged him into a hug “You should’ve seen your face though, it never gets old.”

Peter just humphed back at me and then straightened the mask over his face, he turned his back to me and crossed his arms in agitation.

“Look, I know you’re technically older than me Lena, but sometime I wonder who’s really the ‘kid’ here.” I could see he wasn’t mad, I’m pretty sure he was smiling under his spidey disguise. “ I like popping through your portals _when I know it’s gonna happen_ , but not so much when I’m just pulled through the space time continuum.” His foot stomp really made his point. 

“What’re these powers for if not to scare the shit out of people.”

“I mean, you got me there.” Peter replied.

We started walking down the tunnels. The _rat-tat-tat_ of moving train tracks echoing loudly from nearby.

 Peter pulled out his crumpled map and attempted to straighten it over a bended knee. 

“Ok, I’m thinking if you could just make a portal in each of these abandoned tunnels then we could just peep through and see if there are any illegal weapons caches, and then I’m thinking we just wing it from there.”

“Pete, I don’t think I can just make a portal in a random tunnel from looking at a map.” I stated, my voice was a bit muffled by the bandana, but I mean so was Peter’s under the red ski mask.

“Why not?” Peter whined.

“ If I can’t see it, or haven’t been there before, I don’t know what the destination should look like from this side.” I tried to scratch an itch on my covered nose. “I could try... but the portal might just fizzle out, or we could jump through and end up floating in space... which in hindsight might be pretty badass. I mean if you wanna risk it Pete, I hope you have a concrete plan for when you're falling through the void for eternity.”

Peter sighed. “Is this why you never portal me to the top of Stark Tower when I ask?”

“Yeah," I said sarcastically, "-but also Stark’s a dick so I wouldn’t do it even if I could.” 

Peter stopped walking, “How would you know if Mr. Stark’s a dick, it’s not like you’ve ever met him” He said indignantly. Peter and his Avengers. I think we've had this argument 50 times already. 

“Trust me kid, I just know, haven’t you even been watching the news? If he knew about us he’d write us up on those accord things and give us straight to the government.” I pulled the map from Peter and made to head toward the closest abandoned tunnel, but he crooked his hand around my elbow to hold me back. 

“I don’t think he’d do that to us. What we’re doing is important, Lena. Who else is going to protect these people? Mr. Stark  wouldn’t just lock us away, there’d be nobody left.” Peter let go of my elbow, and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. “Even if we were put on the government’s radar, I’d keep fighting, I’d keep going out at night with or without you because I believe in what we’re doing. I thought you did too.”

That stopped me short. The only sound, the crinkle of the map as my hands clenched around it. 

“Pete, of course I want to help these people, _our_ people, it’s the only reason I agree to go out in this stupid outfit and fight these assholes alongside _you_ , a 15 year old kid.”

I pulled the bandana off my face, letting my voice ring out in the empty tunnel, “My Nana and I have had a hard life ever since my parents died, but we’ve made do, if anything happened to her I wouldn’t know how to go on. I can only imagine how hurt and devastated other families are from the losses they’ve suffered and the hardships they’ve had to go through, anything I can do to help them, I’m going to do it, believe me.” I tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “-but listen Peter, Tony Stark has _never_ been one of us. Sure, he could be a nice guy, he’s got the funds to help whoever he wants at any given moment, but he couldn’t possibly understand what we’ve had to go through to protect the people we love. Just think about your aunt and uncle, Pete, what has Tony Stark done to help them?”

Peter had by this point pulled off his mask, his face crumbled for a moment, “Lena, that’s not fair. Mr. Stark works to save the big picture. He can’t save everybody, not Uncle Ben, not your parents, all I can do, all we can do is make sure he’s got help here on the ground. We can make sure nobody else goes through what we’ve had to in the last couple of years.”

“I don’t know Pete, does he even care that we’re here on the ground? Or does he save the caring for the big stuff? His problems? I’m not sure he’d be on our side if it ever came down to it.”

I took a step back, watching Peter closely as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed, “So if you were one of them, one of the Avengers, you wouldn’t sign the accords?” Peter asked. I should've known this was going to come up eventually. The bombing was everywhere. Were the accords even officially ratified? 

“No Pete I wouldn’t. If we signed those accords the government wouldn’t let us save the little people, don’t you see? They’d only send us out for the big shit, the world killers and manipulators, but then there’d be nobody there for us. Nobody there to stand between the death and killing in New York besides the cops, and they haven’t been doing the most bang up job recently.” I stated. “There’d be no way I’d ever tie myself to the jackasses in government and let them dictate who’s important enough to save.”

“But we’re heroes Lena! We should be up there with the Avengers, up there saving the world with them. We could do it, both of us. At least by signing we’d have a voice at the table.” Peter argued.

“ A voice that would be snuffed out at every given moment! It’s enough for me to be here on the ground, I don’t have any urge to join their super group. I’m happy here looking out for my people and protecting my home. If they ever need us, _If_ the people here are in serious trouble then yeah, I'd help out, but now? Now I'm good where I am. Maybe it’s not enough for you, but that’s not my problem, just don’t drag me into it.” My finger popped through the thin paper of the map, and my nails had pressed crescents into it also. I sighed as I tried to straighten it out again, but some parts weren't legible anymore.  “Just, forget it Pete, let’s look around for the alien weapons and then call it a night.”

Our shoulders barely brushed as we walked silently through the abandoned corridors. We'd split up to look through darkened doorways and then pause after every little sound we heard. 

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but one charged with things unsaid. Or rather, things we've said many times but haven't found out how to talk about yet. 

I could feel Peter's eyes on me, the shift of his body as he tried to pass off his casual glance for something else. I watched him back, too. 

He grew over the past couple years we've known each other. Lanky kid, now moving into agile teen. I wondered how much I'd changed in his eyes? 

We made it a couple more feet in silence before Peter sighed out a low breath, and turned to face me. I counted three inhales, fabric from my bandana sucking against my nose and lips, before Peter spoke. 

“I know that I lost Uncle Ben a year or two before you lost your parents-" I couldn't see his face behind the mask, but the goggles were alight, and I met his gaze head on. " -but when we met I was still really messed up from it, and I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.” Peter said, scuffing a shoe against the other, “Look, I love you Lena, you’re like my big sister and I’m pretty sure Aunt May considers you her second child anyway, but I hope we can still be friends.”

and like that, the spell was broken. I rolled my eyes in exasperation, and reached out to touch him. 

“Peter you idiot, of course we’re still friends.” I shoved his shoulder hard “Hell, siblings fight, and we’re basically brother and sister so we should expect it to happen. I love you a lot Pete, I guess I’m just trying to look out for you, but its okay for us to disagree on things, and its good that we can talk about it together." I fixed him with a pointed glare. "We're still good right?”

I let out a grunt as Peter lunged into my arms, his arms wound around my waist and his goggles rammed into my forehead, before he tucked his head over my shoulder. We were the same height. 

“Ouch Pete, ease up on the hug there buddy, your super strength is gonna snap my ribs.” I laughed.

“Shut up and let me hug you, Ruiz.”

“Oh it’s Ruiz now, Parker?”

“Let’s just go check one more hall and then head home, your constant shouting is making my head hurt.” Peter said, bouncing back after I shoved him off me. He reached out to poke me in the side, but I just chucked him in the hip and retightened my bandana. 

We had quieted down to just echoed giggles. The station seemed completely empty now, it was hard to believe the packed mob at rush hour had even happened. I didn't even know if Peter knew where we were going. Suddenly, he shot a hand out to grab my arm.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

A loud crash came from up ahead, and we watched as a guy stumbled through a door in a shadowed alcove not far from us.  He was swaying on his feet and held a smoking gun in one hand, his other reaching up to rub at his shoulder.

He hadn’t even noticed us yet, “Hot damn! That thing has a kick. Chuck, come over here and try this shit out!.” He shouted, and then propped the gun on his shoulder once more, taking aim at an unseen target through the mysterious doorway.

I clapped Peter on the back, “I guess your girlfriend was right afterall.”

I could hear Peter yelling “She’s not my girlfriend” as I took off down the hall. With one last glance backward, Peter nothing but a red blur behind me, I stumbled through the door.

There were only five guys, all dressed in grubby construction vests and dust covered boots. Three of them held massive firearms at their sides, while the other two watched on. Crumpled beer cans littered the floor. 

This was gonna be fun.

“Hey dumbasses, didn’t your mama ever tell you not to play with guns?” I propped a hip against the door frame and looked on as one at a time, each guy seemed to swing toward me in muddled confusion.  
The loud guy with the smoking gun huffed “the fuck you doing here?”

“Hand over the guns and go sit in the corner pal if you know what’s good for you.”

That made a few of them laugh, but not one moved from their post. They all seemed pretty lax, dulled on booze and ringing bullets. Behind me, Peter strutted into the dim room, his lanky form easily commanding their attention. That made a couple of them straighten, cocking the gun in a bit more threatening fashion.

“Guys, I’d listen to the lady, she’s kinda got a temper.” He said, crouching down onto his toes.

Again, not one of them moved. The loud one scratched at his beard with a free hand. One guy to his left crumpled a rutty beer can behind his palms, and threw it over one shoulder. Another guy covered a belch with his hand, waving away the stench. 

Nobody made a move until the big guy mustered a half-assed 'fuck it' and raised his gun toward us.

“Pete, web ‘em up.” and then he leapt into action.

Peter sprang off the floor and landed an undercut to the main guy in front. The guys head shot back and blood sprayed from his mouth, specks of red landing on the garish orange of his vest. He staggered back and pressed the back of his hand to his open mouth. Yeah, he looked pretty pissed now. The other finally seemed to get the memo, mouths hanging open as the spray of pink blood from their friend arced between them, and then they split.

Two of them hefted up their guns and pointed them straight at me, probably thinking Peter was too hard a target to hit. And he was.

Peter jumped and dodged and zipped around the room on his webs. I think at one point a guy chucked a half drunk beer car at him.  

Shifting my gaze to the tipsy guys before me, I widened my stance and held my hands out ready for anything. 

“Come at me.” I snarled.

The men sneered and then pulled their triggers. Immediately the hall was filled with shot after shot, the _bangs_  ricocheting off the walls and making my head split. The bullets were coming in waves. Each guy chuckled, firepower radiating off their dirty faces and turned they eyes molten gold. 

I thrust my hands out and watched as the electric blue curling between my palms blinded the dull orange tones of the cascading bullets.

One after another, the bullets disappeared through a portal right in front of me. There was a three second lag before they all came out through another portal near the idiots with guns. 

The sound was deafening and bullets were splintering into the wall behind us all. Wood and tile flew everywhere.

“Peter, you asshole, these are fucking machine guns, not alien tech!” I screamed over the noise.

Peter had already webbed up two of the guys, and they laid wriggling on the floor trying to get out of the sticky substance. One guys orange construction vest was even webbed shut over his beer belly. 

Slinging a web out to latch onto the ceiling Peter swung around to get behind his last guy and yelled toward me as he flew over my head, “Whatever, same thing!”

“Definitely not the same thing, Parker.” 

The idiots still continued to shoot toward my portal, not even attempting to inch to the side and hit me.

I closed the portal the same instant as I rolled to my left, knees and hip hitting the pavement _hard._ I felt one stray bullet pass near my face but then I jerked to my feet and opened a portal directly under their feet.

The men let out surprised yelps and then fell through the floor.

A single machine gun clattered at my feet, and I kicked it to the side. Disgusting weapons. 

I cracked my neck, whistling a bit as I lifted my hands and opened a portal on the ceiling.  The two men fell through, gurgled screams coming from both of them.

They flew through the air before falling straight through my portal on the ground again, and again, falling and falling.

Faster, and faster after each pass through the portal tunnel, both men were nothing but a blur of orange after a couple of seconds. Their screams now one long drawn out squeal. 

Peter and I stood snickering for another 30 seconds before I closed the two portals and watched as the two men slammed into the ground.

They both let out pained groans and then simply laid back defeated. One machine gun left ignored, but still clutched in the guy's hands. 

The cops showed up not 10 minutes later and found them all webbed to the subway walls, smoke a debris all that was left of our little rescue. 

Taped to the forehead of a large unconscious bearded man was a note reading - _Sorry about the mess! From your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man_ and a little further down the page, in much messier handwriting read, _Blaze was here too._

======================================================  
======================================================

“Nice job, Spider-Man” I said, snagging the water bottle out of Peter’s hand and taking a sip. Thankfully my backpack had not been stolen from the nasty station bathroom. I didn't bother to change, and Peter just wrestled his school clothes back on over his spider suit. 

“Hey you were pretty good in there too _Blaze_.” He laughed, snatching the bottle out of my hand and chugging it in one go.

We sat on the edge of the roof, watching as a couple people jogged in and out of Grand Central. Stark’s tower loomed over us from where we were sitting. If I rested my weight on my arms I could almost lean back enough to make out the massive shining "A" emblazoned on the massive eyesore. 

“Hey, that’s the only name that came to mind when you cornered me in an alley asking for deets on the new ‘vigilante’ in Queens.” I said, knocking into his shoulder.

“Well, it holds up pretty well, Blaze is badass.” Peter said, and then muttered “Blaze and Spider-Man partners in crime, rogue heroes fighting to save NYC.” and then laughed when I said it sounded like an intro for our own tv show.

We sat in companionable silence before Peter’s stomach growled so loud it probably scared off all the pigeons in New York. The night life was picking up, the city seemed to get even louder at night. We should probably head back. 

“Come on Pete, I’m sure my Nana’s still up and has dinner waiting for us. The old bat never sleeps, and I still need to write my essay for tomorrow.” I sighed. 

Peter groaned “I love your Nana’s cooking, I swear I only decided to adopt you as my superhero sidekick for the food.”

“Oh fuck off, sidekick my ass, Parker” I laughed, and then opened a portal in front of us and shoved Peter through. This time he didn't even scream, he was expecting it. 

I spared one more glance at the sparkling city lights before following Peter through and landing in my apartment.

Peter looked up at me in a disgruntled heap, seems he landed on the floor. I chuckled and then tossed my bag onto the dining table to my right. 

I could hear Nana puttering in the kitchen already, and the whole place smelled fantastic.

Peter was still sitting on the floor, complaining and rubbing his butt when Nana entered the room.

“ _Ay, dios mio_!” She yelled, clutching a hand to her chest in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me you were home, Mija?”

I shrugged, “We just got home Nana.”

She made a humming noise and then placed both hands on her hips. My Nana shot us an annoyed glance, but I think annoyed is her default whenever me and Peter are in the same room. “Oh so you decided to ‘pop’ in instead of using the door like a normal person, is that right?” She said.

Nana's never actually been through one of my portals, but I think she secretly wants to. I kinda took the " I got superpowers" thing a bit crazy when they first popped up, thank God Nana was there to help me through it. I never understood how Peter kept it a secret. So, to Nana, Peter's just a regular kid. Weird, but regular. 

I never told her I go out to fight assholes with guns either. . She still thinks we go study or hang out, which is fine with me.

Although, she does know that Peter knows about my ‘popping’ as she calls it, so we can be pretty chill at home.

“Nana, portaling is so much faster than walking, wouldn’t you want us home sooner rather than later?” I smirked, and pulled Peter up by the straps on his backpack. He smiled sheepishly at my Nana. She saw through our crap instantly. 

She pursed her lips. Her hair was loose about her shoulders in soft waves. It was still a rich dark brown, small streaks of grey showing through if you knew where to look. A stained apron was tied around her waist. 

“Well, you’re both just in time for dinner.” She said, not even blinking an eye when I pointed out that it was already 9:30 pm.

“Peter did you tell your Aunt that you were staying late to eat, does she even know where you are?” She asked.

“Uh, no I should probably give her a call, our... tutoring session went a bit late.” Peter then scurried out of the room, looking for his cell in his backpack and barely caught himself when he tripped over the rug. 

Nana still looked unconvinced, but ushered me into the kitchen to grab utensils and set the table. Everything was quiet except for the TV running in the other room, and the beans on the stove sizzling. She almost always had the tv on, the static and mumbled voices were a calming backing to the hustle of New York life. 

I was setting the last plate when Nana set down her dish a bit too hard and soup sloshed out the side onto the light yellow tablecloth. The red Fideo turned the cloth into a dull sickly orange. 

I quickly handed her a napkin, as she started mumbling under her breath, dabbing at the cloth carefully, but the stain was stubborn.

“Mijita, you were out tutoring you said?” Her eyes were on the table but I could tell she was paying very close attention to me, I simply gulped and nodded, “and you weren’t out, say fighting, or making trouble, _si_?”

“No, not at all Nana.”

She hummed again, “and you’re not dragging Peter into your _nighttime activities_ are you?”

“Nighttime activities?” I asked innocently. I attempted to distract myself by straightening the napkins, though none of them needed it. Peter's voice was softly muffled in the other room as he called Aunt May, he was retelling a doctored version of his and Ned's chemistry class fiasco today. 

Finally she turned to me, an exasperated expression on her face, her ruby red lips tightened over her teeth in a straight line,  “ _Magdalena Angélica Ruiz_ , you expect me to believe I don’t know you’re out crime fighting with that _araña_ in the mask?”

I spluttered, and just then Peter walked back into the room. He stopped short when he noticed the budding tension, his eyes widened and made to back out as fast as possible. I shot him a glare suggesting if he moved another muscle, I’d hit him.

“Nana, Peter and I were just studying, I promise! _No soy una mentirosa_ , Nana!” I pleaded, Peter nodded his head in support when she looked his way, but then his face immediately went back to panicked and uncomfortable when Nana looked back at me. 

“I don’t believe you, but I won’t push it. Mija, many times you have come home smelling like metal and urine or maybe blood who knows, but I definitely don’t think you’re just ‘tutoring’.” She abruptly sits down at the table, and slowly Peter and I follow, the rickety chair swayed under my weight "Hopefully you're not putting Peter in harms way." Nana looked at Peter while spooning soup into her bowl, a troublesome gleam in her eyes. Peter gulped, and awkwardly spooned soup into his own bowl.  

Maybe Nana knows a lot more than we both thought. 

Peter and I just looked down at the table in silence. The scrape of my metal spoons against glass bowls making my eyes twitch. 

Peter was tapping his fingers on the table, and looking anywhere but at my Nana.

The quiet dinner was too much for him, he continued to shovel soup into his mouth and then dab carefully at his mouth with the napkin. His wide eyes would swivel from watching me, and from watching my Nana, who had yet to take one taste of the fideo. 

“Lena’s, a great tutor Mrs. Ruiz, I finally got my grade up to a B in U.S. History, and still had time to make it to all my club meetings this week” he started to babble. Give him any situation, where there is awkward silence Pete can fill it with babbled whatever. 

He stopped with a yelp after my foot met his shin under the table. My eyes said 'shut up Peter' and he grimaced, and went on to tearing small chunks out of the napkin in his lap.

By the time the clock hit 10:30 my eyes started to droop, I was exhausted. First from the spat with Peter, to dodging bullets and then the thing with Nana, I was ready for bed. There was no way I was gonna pound out an essay tonight anyway, it wouldn't be the first time I get docked points for late work. 

I walked Peter to the door and patted him a bit too hard on the back. The clicking of china was heard as Nana started to clear the table behind us.  

"Text me when you get home Pete, and don't do anything stupid on the way there." 

I give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek and then he jogged down the hall, pulling his backpack up his shoulder when it slipped, and yelled out a quick ' _Buenos Noches'_ before disappearing around the corner. The door clicked shut just as he disappeared from view. 

Leaning my forehead against the cool wood of the door I sighed, and then turned back around to face Nana. She stood beside the cleared table, her hand settled against the wooden chair to her side. 

Her eyes held mine steadily. I met her halfway as we walked around the table toward each other. Her hand warm against the inside of my elbow. 

Her nails were always red, red and manicured and beautiful.

“ _Te quiero mucho, Mijita_.I only worry, If you ever were injured doing whatever you do-” she stopped, quickly clenching her eyes shut, and then continued “ -Just be safe, be careful. What you do is important and I’m so so proud, and I know your parents would be too.”

She knew. 

She knew me well enough to realize I'd never stop. 

I simply pulled her into my arms, and rested my chin on her head. Nana smelled like fresh cut roses. 

“Always, Nana, I’m always careful.”


	2. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lena dreams, grabs a sub, cries a bit and doesn't like Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the plot of Civil War now and Lena's not happy about it.  
> This is also a super long chapter but I just had a lot I wanted to put down even if it is just filler lol.
> 
> Writing Loki was impossible. I hope the backstory makes sense :)
> 
> Lead on, brave readers!  
> \- Emma

_“No, Nana they’re never late, at least not without giving us a heads up.” I say into the phone, I had it propped on my shoulder while I yanked the wheel to make a quick right turn toward Oscorp, the massive building was an impressive shadow over the entire neighborhood.  I glanced at the coffee cup that toppled over on the passenger's seat as it dribbled cold coffee out the side. “It’s already 8pm Nana, they got out at 5:30, something’s weird. I’ll be fine, I swiped an extra key card from Dad’s desk and I’ll just get in through the back entrance to the lab.”_

_Nane fussed some more, her voice was static in my ear to the growing panic I could feel inside me. She kept saying to just come home and that she’ll call the boss, ask what was keeping them so late, and that maybe they were held back for a meeting. I knew it was bullshit. Norman Osborn is a creep in every sense of the word, so I wouldn’t trust him to give us the truth anyway. Better to check for myself._

_“I’m almost there, the worst that could happen is that I get a parking ticket, I promise” I say through clenched teeth. It was cold out tonight, I think it rained earlier while I was in class._

_The brightness of the red traffic light even agitated me._

_I could hear Nana babbling into my ear but I was struggling to pull the key card out and park the car nearer to the building._

_“Nana I’ve got to go, I’ll call you back as soon as I find them.” and then I ended the call, slipping the key card into my back pocket._

_My parents had been working for Oscorp for at least the last 7 years. They started right after we made the move to New York. I was only 11 at the time, but their excitement was palpable in a way 11 year olds under stand adult excitement._

_They both were really well known particle physicists back home, so they latched on to a job offer that would take both of them. And who didn’t want to move to the Big Apple?_

_Oscorp was and has always been a massive ugly building in the heart of New York, you couldn’t miss it._

_I’d only been here a handful of times, mainly to watch demonstrations of projects my parents had worked on, or simply as part of a school tour group. It was always embarrassing running into my parents with the rest of the class. Dad would try to act all cool while Mom tried to meet all my friends._

_Both of my parents worked in the experimental science lab area. They worked to understand the particle fusion of matter in respect to radiation and mutation...or something along those lines._

_The building seemed empty from the front. The doors were tinted black, no way to see the entrance, or if there was anyone left inside._

_I inched my way toward the back entrance, sliding behind dumpsters and shifty looking black vehicles._

_Finally reaching the door I prayed that Dad’s key card would get me in. It was simple, minimalistic. His name was etched on the side in a fancy script and there was only one barcode on the edge of one side._

_I wiped it against my shirt once, trying to get the sweat off that had come from my shaking hands and then slipped it through the door reader._

_It beeped once, twice, and then turned green and I shoved the heavy door open quickly. The door made a loud suction noise as it opened inwards._

_The air felt sour. It was incredibly quiet. Doors and elevators lined the hallway. Lights were still on under some of the doors but the rest were just black voids leading to who knows what._

_I crept along, keeping close to the walls. One hand on the key card in sweatshirt pocket and the other feeling its way across the damp wall._

_As I turned the corner up ahead I saw movement under a lighted door. A shadow, no two shadows moving about in the room._

_I heard muffled voices the closer I got to it._

_The sign to the right read “Laboratory 1”_

_I wiped my sweaty palms on my thighs and put the key card back into my pocket. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck as I nervously looked down the hallways to my sides, just incase. I had nothing on me but my phone that damn key card._

_If I could just get into the room without anybody noticing that would be ideal. Huffing out a deep breath, I bounced up and down a bit on the balls of my feet, shake the nerves away Lena come on._

_I gradually pushed the door open until I could kind of see inside._

_There were four men standing in the center of the room, and two figures kneeling on the ground. Lab equipment surrounded them on all sides, and two computers by a desk were slowly powering down in the low light of their nearby lamps._

_The men’s backs were to me. Muscular, hunched shoulders clad in what appeared to be tactical gear. I still couldn’t really make out the figures on the floor. I saw bits of hair or the tail of a jacket through the sparse windows between the men, but nothing else._

_One man in the room, he was different._

_He was terrifying._

_All poised grace, but with the subtle air of violence. Like a coiled snake watching through slitted eyes, waiting for the opportunity to strike._

_His black hair was long, slicked back and making the sickly angles of his face stand out in stark contrast to the green of his eyes. He kept twisting and turning in front of the figures, I couldn't get a clear look at his face, only the side profile._

_He wore a darkened suit, leather? and held nothing in his hands save a sharpened sceptre with the most hypnotic blue gem set in the head. He swung it back in forth in front of his body, the blue energy coming from the gem seemed to linger in the air after every pass._

_The three other men were soldiers. Two standing at attention with handguns drawn, and the third further back, an arrow cocked in the string of his bow. All of them made of harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes._

_They really didn’t want these guys on the ground to move did they?_

_None of them seemed to notice the open door, so I slipped inside, and crouched behind a silver plated lab table. I could lean outward to see just enough of the men._

_What am I doing here, why did I enter the room in the first place? If these guys are dangerous, what if they found mom and dad, if anything; they would know._

_The snake stalked back and forth in front of the two kneeling figures. I could hear a whimper come from one, high pitched maybe from a woman._

_The green eyed man stopped pacing and placed the scepter down at his side._

_“ I have come to conquer this world. Bend and shape it to my will, create from it a prosperous land, with me at the reigns.”_

_He paused, tilting his head to the side as if listening to something, I held my breath until he continued. “One of you could help me birth that world. Some of your kind are intellectually gifted, yes,  and I’ve come to realize that I need that gift on my side, I’ll show you the truth, give you the power, you need only ask.” He swept his arms wide, as if telling them ‘look, look at what I have to offer you.’_

_He speaks with such confidence, I'm ashamed to say I’m mesmerized. Enthralled with this man, this very dangerous man who has spelled out our doom and written the future of our subjugation._

_I had the distinct feeling that he somehow knew I was there._

_“We don’t want any part of this, please sir let us leave this building in peace.”_

_My breath caught, and I almost seemed to choke on nothing._ Dad. That's dad's voice. 

_I inched closer, trying to see through the legs of these men who were holding my father, and what I could assume my mother too._

_Straining around the edge of the table I could see their faces._

_My dad looked brave. His hands clenched into fists, and his chin jutted out in the face of these men who were a trigger pull away from ending him. His shirt was askew but his glasses were perched neatly on his nose. My mother looked strong, scared but strong. Her hair was curling daintily around her ears, and her eyes were very wide but she looked calm considering the situation, although her left hand was tugging anxiously at her lab coat._

_“You see, Mr. Ruiz, we’ve done the research, we have determined that both you and Mrs. Ruiz are incredibly gifted, you have lead this company into its success almost single handedly” The man stated._

_Mom and Dad single handedly keeping Oscorp on top? Somehow I didn’t really doubt it, both of them are brilliant._

_Mom spoke out then, I could see her take a shuddering breath from here. “W-We just work behind the scenes, we do our job well, yes but we can’t possibly be re-rewarded for just that. Just working”_

_The man turned his face and I could see a smile scarcely grace his lips from where I was hidden._

_“Agent Barton, why did you recommend the Ruiz’s for our cause?”_

_The man with the bow didn’t even let his arrow droop while answering, his arm remained taught in position, his lips barely moving “Edmundo and Gloria Ruiz both worked to stabilize numeral chemical properties in order to enhance their experimentation parameters and also allow mass conduction into the observation of quantum particle studies concerning radiation. They would be able to greatly aid Selvig in his work, sir.” Agent Barton looked robotic in his response, and his eyes shone an unnatural shade of blue. His body just as taught as the string on his bow._

_“You see, we need your minds and experiences to help...stabilize a certain property I have come to possess.” The green man said, stopping directly in front of my parents._

_“And what if we don’t want to work for you?” My dad asked._

_The man smirked “I don’t think you have a choice.”_

_That caused my dad to slump down, lean more fully on his legs, I think he finally realized the position and danger he is in. and in that moment we made eye contact._

_He froze. His mouth open, gaping in shock, but then quickly averted his eyes so as not to reveal my position to these dangerous men._

_“Are you going to kill us if we refuse?”_

_The man stared down at my father, “Unfortunately I only require the services of one of you, I can't ferry you all away to safety, so one must die."_

_I could barely stifle my gasp. My hand flying up to clamp around my mouth. No no this can't happen. Fight him Dad!_

_My father’s head hung in dismay, my mother clenching her eyes so tight I doubt even a tear could slip through. "and one of us will live?"_

_The green eyed man simply hummed in response._

_I could hear my dad inhale and exhale a massive breath “Kill me then, take my wife, at least she will live.”_

_I must have made some kind of noise because dad’s head shot upward, his brown eyes locking on mine. The desperation and fear that he conveyed in a single glance shook me to the core._

_My mother began to wail, “Edmundo you can’t! Think of Magdalena, she needs you, I need you” and then she turned to the man “Please don’t kill him, we have a daughter, she needs her father, don’t do this.”_

_The room echoed with her screams. My mother's hands raked through her tangled curls._

_“Be grateful to your God that you may live to see another day”_

_The gem glistened under the dim light, it seemed to dance, it seemed alive, but then it's sharpened blade plunged through my father’s chest._

_His last dying exhale was heard through the lab like a violent gust of wind._

_I can’t breathe. I'm choking._

_My mom wails._

_The man steps over the body, and places his hand on the crown of my mother’s head. Her body visibly shaking, from shock or fear I don’t know._

_“Hush now, everything will be okay.” His finger curls around a single piece of hair, and then watches it fall limply._

_For one horrible moment I think he’s going to plunge the bloody sceptre through my mom as well, but he presses the tip of the blade over her heart._

_My father’s blood staining the edge of her white lab coat._

_Her back arches and the electric unnatural blue from the gem seems to seep into her, spreading over her chest before staking claim in her eyes._

_She stops shaking and rises to her feet almost instantly, not even glancing toward the dead body at her feet._

_“Ah, Mrs.Ruiz, thank you for your cooperation.” The man says, stepping back._

_My mother does nothing but nod her head, "You’re welcome sir."_

_The man turns away and turns toward me. Lurching away from the edge of the table I fall back panting in fear. I hear movement of the men standing down, and peak to make sure they are leaving, but a hand clamps its way harshly into my hair, pulling me up by the roots._

_“Agent Barton, please allow Mrs.Ruiz to say goodbye to her daughter.”_

_I gasp in pain as tears come to my eyes, and a hand holds me tight to a hard chest._

  _The archer’s eyes are even more terrifying up close, he doesn’t even look down at me. My head barely reaches his chin, and I can see the hard line of his jaw clenching and unclenching._

_He drags me toward the man, my punches and kicks doing nothing to throw him off course._

_He holds my wriggling body in front of him, my forearms clasped behind my back in his grip. My heart about ready to beat out my chest._

_The man quickly searches my face, his eyes flitting down to notice my simple jeans and NYU pullover._

_I spare him one disgusted glance before looking toward my mother. “Mom?” I ask, but she doesn’t react at all. She stands like a statue, her glowing blue eyes stuck on the man in front of me._

_The man grabs my chin in his hands, turning my face back and forth under his unforgiving gaze. I scrunched up my eyebrows and hoped my snarl was intimidating in any way, my eyes burning with their tears._

_“Mrs.Ruiz you have a beautiful child.” He said, tracing my jaw with the back of his hand._

_“Thank you sir, Magdalena is a wonderful daughter, I’m sure she would follow you sir, if you only desire it.”_

_The man laughed, his hands leaving my face._

_I looked toward my mom in despair. What did he do to her?_

_The man hummed deep in the back of his throat. “I don’t believe she would follow willingly, and it would be cruel for her king to throw her to the hands of my men, only to be used and defiled, she is nothing but a child...beautiful yes, but a child”_

_I shivered in disgust. Please don’t mind control me, please just let me leave. Dad I need you. Please._

_“I’m 18.” I said. I turned my head to the side, not wanting to see the horrors before me. Dad's bloody chest, his mouth slanted open in pain._

_The man smirked, “ and I, young one, am over 1,000 years old.” He moved back, sweeping the room in disinterest._

_“Sir, we’ve been here long enough, SHIELD is still tailing us.” Barton said._

_The man nodded._

_Suddenly Barton threw me at the man’s feet. My elbows clanging painfully on the hard ground._

_My hands scrambled to hold up my weight but I stopped short when the green eyed man leveled the sceptre toward my face. It's glow illuminating the shadowed sickness flowing in his eyes._

_“Goodbye, child.”_

_I scarcely heard myself scream“Mom!” before a powerful blast hit me in the chest and then everything exploded in an electric blue before abruptly shifting to nothing._

 

_====================================_

_====================================_

Nana said I was hospitalized for two weeks after they found Dad and I in that Oscorp lab.

Dad was dead, they thought I was too at first, but then I guess my just heart wouldn’t quit. I think Nana prayed over my unconscious form every day for the entirety of it. 

Mom was gone, it wasn’t until her body was found in an abandoned warehouse in Germany  that we finally had some semblance of closure. I knew after the man took her that she’d never return to us, I just knew it. She;s buried next to Dad. 

And Nana and I have been struggling ever since. The hospital bills really kicked our asses, but we made do, like we always have. Like she says, The Ruiz’s never back down from a challenge.

Well at least that's what she told me when she walked into my hospital room to see me fall sleepily through an open hole in the ground. I made it back to the room in time before she screamed bloody murder, but still it was traumatizing. Maybe the blast from the scepter awakened some weird dormant mutation, or maybe I'm just lucky that way, but it's never been the same since. 

Nana and I both were freaked out that’s for sure.  

Both of us had reoccurring dreams since then, Nana of the giant portal in the sky raining aliens, and I of violent green eyes and electric blue. I’m not quite sure if my dreams nowadays are more flashbacks or nightmares. Every other night it seems I’m thrown back into that lab, the blows hitting harder after every night.

This morning was no different. I gasped loudly, shooting out of my bed. I guess Nana was already up because she raced into my room, her hand quickly wiping my tangled hair from my sweaty forehead.

“ _Fue una pesadilla niña, no te preocupes.”_ She whispered, her breath smelled like coffee.

It was already 2pm by the time I got out of the apartment. I’d already missed class this morning so I didn’t see the point of going all the way to campus just to turn in a shitty essay I wrote thirty minutes ago.

Queens is beautiful in the afternoon, there’s none of the hectic morning rush, and it’s just before rush hour and after lunchtime. 2pm is perfect, trust me.

I could feel the anxiety building in my chest everytime I thought of the dream, so the cool air outside helped clear my head. Tree canopies and dog walkers make all the difference. 

There’s a really great deli down on the corner I planned to stop by, Peter and I love to go for subs before our nightly 'tutoring' sessions.

Peter and I are practically neighbors too which I love. I could just pop into his room whenever, but he gets pretty peeved everytime I  pop in just to see him shirtless in front of the mirror practicing his webbing styles. I say it’s dorky but really it’s adorable. I love the kid. Once he was so startled he hurled his entire webshooter at my face, not the webs, but the  _shooter_ , hilarious. 

We met in the best way possible too. I guess he’d just got his powers, and I’d just started my ‘patrolling’ of the neighborhoods because we literally ran into each other trying to catch the same bike thief.

He gets embarrassed everytime I mention the way his voice squeaked in alarm when I portaled in front of him the first time. He kinda just yelped “Wha-Who the hell are you??” and then I had to come up with a name super quick. I still think Blaze is way better than Spider-Man though.

He acted as if me portalling was a lot freakier than him _walking on walls_ , but it’s whatever.

I pushed open the door to the deli, the jingle rousing the sleeping cat near the window. Ah the smell of Mountain Dew and pickles. 

“Hey Mr.Delmar!” I yelled, sweeping through the grocery aisles, “Did you move all the stuff? Where are all the snacks?” I called out.

Mr.Delmar was a really kind man, he always opened the deli early for all the school kids running by to pick up something to eat on their way to class.

Currently, he was hefting a pack of coke through the back door. “We just got a new shipment, Lena. Just give me a minute and I’ll bring out all the merchandise, one’s subs free if you help shelve ‘em!”

Together we packed bags of chips and trail mix onto the shelves, we took a break after hefting the rest of the drinks through the back door and towards the coolers in the back. My hands were dusty from the old boxes and let smudges on my pants, but that's okay. 

Mr.Delmar waved his hand as I tried to pry open a pack of Pepsi. “Leave it, I’ll get the boys to do it later, I gotta pay them to do something you know.” He laughs. “Now, what can I get you, Mija?” The grey in his beard really brought out his eyes, maybe Nana should visit him more often. 

“Can I just get two number 5’s and one number 7?” The cat had jumped from the window ledge and was winding its way between my calves, “Oh, and on the number 5’s can you add pickles? And sm-”

“Yeah, smush it down real flat.” He said, already starting to make the order. “ You’re still babysitting Peter for his Aunt?”

I snickered, Mr.Delmar sent me a wink over the top of the counter. “You could say that yeah, more like he’s babysitting me so I don’t flunk out of NYU in my last semester.”

“School’s not treating you well?” He asked, wrapping up the first sub. 

I winced, I shouldn’t have ditched class today “It’s complicated, It’s like I’m so close to graduation that I can’t really put in 100%, like I want to leave but also what the hell am I going to do after it’s over?” My fingers caught on the frayed edges of my wallet, trying to pull out a $20 I had stashed somewhere in there.

Mr.Delmar had finished up the last sub and was bagging them for me when he sighed, “You’ll figure it out, you’re a smart kid, both of you are. There’s no doubt you’ll go on to do great things.”

“Thanks, Mr.Delmar” I said, smiling, he waved away my $20 as thanks for helping him set up the store.

I was walking out the door when Mr.Delmar yelled out from behind the counter, “ _Dile a tu vieja que me visite, estoy solo!_ And tell that Parker to stay away from my daughter, he’s a good kid but he’s a troublemaker!”

I laughed all the way down the street.

=========================================

=========================================

Peter and Aunt May’s apartment was only four blocks away from mine. Some nights we’d all get together for dinner, just to save the hassle of trying to cook every night. It was nice. The loud shouting of different conversations and Peter and I lobbing food over our dinner plates at each other until Nana got up and hit us with the broom. Good times.  

Both May and my Nana think Peter and I met through a mentoring/tutoring program partnered with our schools and we’re fine with that. We just say we really kicked it off over that first session on algebraic equations.

I didn’t even bother to knock as I walked through the door into Peter’s apartment. They always kept a spare key above the door anyway.

I could hear May puttering around in the kitchen. The apartment was cute, clean and totally homey, I loved it. 

Bu this time I wrinkled my nose right when I closed the door, the whole place smelled kind of like a rotten prune.

I knocked my knuckles against the kitchen door frame,Aunt May was bent over trying to pull something out of the oven. “Hey May, I was in the neighborhood and brought Peter a sub for later, there’s an extra in here too if you want it, I don’t know if you’d like what Peter usually orders though.” I said, hefting the bag of subs onto the counter.

May turned and tugged me into her arms. “Oh, Lena! You should have told me you were coming, I would’ve made more walnut loaf.” She said.

Ah, that was the rank smell.

“Uh, that’s okay May, I got myself a sandwich too, just thought I’d wait up for Peter to get home.” I said, the clock on the oven read 2:45, Peter should be home in the next half hour or so.

“He should be home soon. I had to drag him out of bed this morning, I guess you both were out late studying for his spanish test on Friday.” She said, turning around and looking for a plate to display her loaf. The cabinets were packed with mismatched mugs and dishes. 

I laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, he mentioned wanting to go over it a bit, but really we just hung out.”

She shot me a smile over the top of her glasses. “I know, Peter treats you like an annoying older sister, so I’m not really sure how much studying you guys get up to anyway.”

“Hey we usually get a bit of studying done in there,  but he’s like my much younger annoying brother too, and yet I still love him to death.”

May just smiled, squeezing my shoulder affectionately as she sat down at the kitchen table, her loaf placed cut in front of her.

“Lena, come sit down. At least eat the sub you brought.” She said.

I dug into the sandwich, god bless Mr.Delmar, these truly are the best in Queens.

We sat together in silence for a couple moments before May spoke up, “How’s your Grandma doing?  Are you still enjoying your classes, I can’t believe graduation’s just around the corner!”

Swallowing down a bite quickly I tried to respond, I think I have mustard on my chin. “Yeah she’s good, keeps asking about you too, we should all get together for dinner again sometime soon.” I smiled, tugging a napkin onto my lap “I’m excited to graduate, hopefully I figure out something to do after”

“Oh honey you will, don’t worry, I’m sure there’s loads of internships in the city, or even jobs opening up for aspiring young women like you.” May said kindly.

“I know, its just I don’t know if I’m doing what my parents would have wanted me to do. I’m getting a degree in something so far away from science it’s laughable, and I-It’s just I don’t know if they’d be happy with the choice.” I muttered, clenching the used napkin between my nails.

“You’re parents would be proud of you no matter what. They wouldn’t want you to do anything that made you unhappy, Lena” May said, scooting her chair closer to me around the table, her hand reached for mine “Just because your parents were successful in what they did doesn’t mean you need to follow in their footsteps.”

“I know that now, and I really do love the degree I chose, but it’s just nagging in the back of my head, like what would they say about it, what advice would they give, you know?” I grabbed May’s hand in between mine, “I don’t think I could ever step foot in a science lab again anyway, not after that night.” May clasped my hands even harder, I could barely look her in the eye.

“You know...Peter never goes down the street anymore, the street where they found Ben...ever since he died Peter just goes around the block, he shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but its still there, I can see it in his eyes.” May wipes a finger under her eye, her glasses fogging up a little bit, “Lena, I’m so so happy you and Peter have found each other, and I know I can trust you to look after him, but he’s also there for you, you both have gone through horrible losses in the past years, and it has changed you both I’m sure. Your parents would be proud of the strong, intelligent woman they raised, no matter what.”

When my chin began to wobble May held my head to her chest, her hand rubbing against my back. I could feel the change in her breather after every inhale and exhale, it was calming in the best way. 

I’m so grateful to have her in my life.

After I had calmed down a bit more May let go of me, and my back ached a bit from leaning in such an uncomfortable position against her.

“Why don’t we turn on the TV for a bit while we wait for Peter.” Thankfully May left her stinky baked loaf in the kitchen as we shuffled to the couch.

She flicked on the TV and I watched dumbfounded as a news anchor spoke rapidly over images of panicked destruction. Shoving the last of my sandwich in my mouth I put my attention on the bottle blonde reporter. 

I grabbed the remote to turn up the volume.

The news anchor was speaking quickly, her hand to her ear trying to relay whatever her on site person was saying.

On the shaky video footage there were hundreds of people running to evacuate some building, police were at the scene. Then they switched to what looked like a downed helicopter, its blades whirring slowly against the side of a river.

There was smoke billowing from the scene of the crash.

“This is Breaking News- It seems that earlier today the Joint Counter Terrorist Center in Berlin, Germany was attacked. As of now, authorities are releasing little to no information regarding the attack or its aftermath. We have reason to believe that a high profile prisoner had escaped and set a rampage through the facility. Both, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff were thought to be on site to apprehend the terrorist. There is no way to know if the assumed terrorist was indeed James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, thought to be responsible for the Vienna UN Bombings earlier this week, but many believe this to be the case. Some civilians say they witnessed Captain America aiding or chasing the fugitive in Berlin, closely followed by two other unidentified figures. Stand by for further information regarding the attack at the Joint Counter Terrorist Center that occurred earlier today.” The image then switched over to what looked like a demolished tunnel, cars backed up for miles trying to get through the rubble. People could be seen standing outside their cars, yelling at each other and probably honking non stop, what a nightmare. 

“Oh how horrible” May said “I hope nobody was hurt.”

I just nodded in aggreement. 

I wonder how much of it is true. I mean really, we don’t know these people, these heroes.

Yeah Captain America could’ve been chasing or aiding this “fugitive” but who even said he was a fugitive in the first place, and why was Stark there to pacify a prisoner if it’s technically the governments problem?

I just don’t think we have all the facts. The bombings put off the Sokovia Accords by what, a day? And still Stark is their poster boy. I don’t think Captain America was even going to show up to the signing anyway. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least, from what I’ve learned about him, Roger’s would never sign.

Just that little bit of information makes me trust him a whole lot more than I trust Stark, so who really knows who’s in the wrong.

May was babbling away about the accords and the violence on television these days when the doorbell rang.

She got up off the couch, waving her hand at me not to bother getting up, it was probably just a neighbor asking for something again.

Her easy grin slid away as she looked through the peephole. 

"May who is it?" I asked, I stood up by the edge of the couch. My hands tied into the blanket tossed on the back.

It was a man at the door, he was barely an inch or two taller than May, she stepped aside and he swept into the apartment confidently, not even bothering with the pleasantries. 

What the fuck.

“This is a gorgeous apartment, May, you said May right? Great name.” Stark gazed around the room, his eyes briefly flicking from my position near the couch and back to May, I guess whatever he was looking for he didn’t find it “Really cozy, it's got a homey type feel to it.”

I think May was at a loss of words. Tony Stark was in her house.

She opened her mouth and then shut it again, “L-Lena, will you grab Mr.Stark something to drink from the kitchen?” She asked.

I didn’t take my eyes off of him as I backed into the kitchen. He didn't look great from what I could see. His suit immaculate yeah, but his face was beat. He had a vivid bruise under one eye and his eyes looked beet red. His hand twitching slightly at his side. 

I grabbed two glasses of water and the plate of walnut loaf. Let’s see you eat that Stark.

They were on the couch by the time I got back.

I placed the food and cups and then sat in an armchair on the side, my leg thrown over the arm. 

May was still a bit starstruck. Stark simply grabbed his glass and took a sip, then checked the time on his sleek phone which he fished from his back pocket.

He looks older in person, more ragged around the edges than I imagined. His eyes flicked rapidly over the screen, reading who knows what.

I think he felt me staring at him because he met my gaze head on. His head tilted to the side a bit, he was sizing me up. He was unimpressed, but also confused. I don't think he anticipated me being here, I wasn't on the radar. Good.

He has brown eyes, like me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, straight and to the point.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, and then winced slightly when it pulled on his injured cheek.

“And who might you be?” Stark asked, he placed his phone on his thigh and leaned back gingerly into the couch. 

May jumped in, “This is Lena Ruiz, she’s Peter’s tutor and friend, she was just waiting for him to get back from school, he should be home any minute now.”

Stark placed his glass back on the coffee table. He took in my tattered sweatshirt and beat up boots interestingly. 

“Are you looking for Peter?” I asked.

“As a matter of fact I am, Mr.Parker applied to a... foundation in my name and just happened to be chosen for a grant.” He checked the time on his phone again.

“Oh how wonderful!” May said, clapping her hands, “He didn’t mention he was applying for anything, did you help him with the application Lena?”

“Um, I don’t think I did.” I said, eyeing Stark suspiciously. What grant?

Not even looking up from his phone Stark said “It was pretty easy to apply, he probably didn’t need your help for it”

What an asshole. Clicking my tongue against the back of my teeth, I stretch my arm against the back of the chair and stared at the side of his face as he gazed around the apartment. 

“Did you get that black eye in Germany, Stark?” I asked.

He leveled me a flat look, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your-”

“Lena, why would you-”

Both Stark and May spoke at the same time, but then were interrupted by the opening of the front door.

Peter trudged in, shucking his backpack off and readjusting his grip on what looked like an old DVD player, bobbing his head to some song he’s listening to on his headphones.   

“Hey, Aunt May!” he called out, he walked into the kitchen and I heard a little ‘heck yeah’, probably from when he saw the bag of subs I'd brought. Peter you idiot, get in here. 

May smiled and called back “How was school today?”

Peter made his way into the living room, rummaging around in the bag of subs. “It was okay, there’s this crazy car parked outside…”

He did a double take when he saw us on the couch and reached up to take out his headphones. His eyes blown wide and the subs left forgotten.

Stark turned, his 100 watt smile on full display “Oh, Mr.Parker.”

“Um, what.” Peter stuttered his eyes darting around before landing on me, not like I'd know any more about this than he did. ”I-I’m Peter.” 

“Tony” Stark replied.

“What-What are you doing here?” Peter shot me a glance that screamed help me.

I piped up, scooting to the edge of the chair and resting my forearms against my thighs, “Apparently you applied for some kind of grant under Stark’s name?”

Peter clearly had no idea what the hell I was talking about.

Stark just waved flippantly, he had a don't worry about it attitude going, “The September Foundation, you’ve been getting my emails, right? Well now we’re in business.”

“Um, yeah, okay, does this...grant have money or whatever involved?” Peter asked, his eyes glued to Stark. May was still trying to figure out what was going on too. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty well funded.” he gestured to himself “Look who you’re talking to.”

“Peter, I wished you’d have told me” May says.

“Well I know how you like surprises.. So surprise?”

I snorted. Yeah we’re all surprised here.

Stark shot me a quick glance and then stood, “Can I get 5 minutes with him?” Reaching his arms back to stretch, and then slip his phone back into his pocket. 

“Actually I need to speak to Peter real quick, promise.” I said, bolting out of my chair and tugging Peter out of the room.

“What the fuck was that?” I hissed.

Peter’s eyes were wide “Tony Stark is in my apartment.”

“Yeah I see that, but _why_ is he in your apartment, and what is this shit about a grant?”

“I swear I didn’t apply for anything, I wish I had though, did you apply for me?”

“No, why would I apply for you to work under Tony Stark of all people??”

Peter rubbed his eyes “I-I think I should hear him out, he’s obviously here for a reason.”

“Pete, he just came from some mysterious terrorist attack and his face looks like mashed hamburger, I saw it all on the news.” I shook his arm.

“So? It’s Tony _Stark,_ Lena! And if he’s offering cash why wouldn’t I talk to him?”

“So you’re gonna let him bribe you into doing whatever?” I whispered back.

“No of course not. Just give me a few minutes with him. Go home and I’ll call you when he’s gone, then portal over here and we can go over it okay?” Peter said, his eyes holding mine.

I sighed, “Fine, Peter, but just… be careful, I don’t know. This is weird okay?” I hugged him close to my chest and then made my way out into the living room again.

Stark was struggling to get down a piece of the rancid walnut loaf.

“I’m heading out May, I’ll tell Nana you say hi. Tell Peter to call me when your… visitor leaves.” I grabbed my backpack and my half eaten sub and made for the door.

Stark was eyeing me from the couch. I raised my eyebrows, nodding my head in goodbye when I was stopped, “You and Parker.. you’re close?” He asked.

“Yeah we are” I said, holding the door open, “We look out for each other.”

The door slammed shut behind me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translation:
> 
> Fue una pesadilla, no te preocupes : It was a nightmare, don't worry  
> dile me a tu vieja que me visite, estoy solo : Tell your old lady to visit me, I'm lonely. 
> 
> Hope you liked it!  
> Also thanks for the Kudos.


	3. Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter goes abroad.  
> Lena dreams, and realizes where she needs to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Peter, a lot. I hope I get it across how much of a kid he is.   
> I also don't have anything against Tony Stark, but also he brought a kid??? to fight his battles?? with his friends??? Can't get over that shit man. 
> 
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

“What do you mean you’re going to Germany?” My phone clenched in my hand I paced the floor of my room, kicking up dirty clothes and discarded food wrappers. The laundry basket in the corner was dangerously overflowed and was looking more like the leaning tower of Pisa everyday. 

I could hear Peter puttering about, it sounded like he was tossing things here and there and his breath was coming fast through the phone.

“I don’t know, I- Mr.Stark he-he told me he needed my help, Lena. He needs  _ my _ help.” 

I stopped. Deep breath, I could feel a panicky sort of flutter starting in my stomach. 

“Needs your help doing what Peter? What happened to the grant, the special foundation you ‘applied’ for?” I asked harshly. 

Peter huffed out a sigh “There’s no grant, or foundation, or maybe there is but that’s not why he showed up at the apartment. Mr.Stark knew who I was, Lena. He just pulled up a video of me stopping a car with my  _ bare hands _ and-and knew, he  _ knew  _ that I was out saving people, and he, he just wanted to make sure I was doing it for the right reasons, make sure he could trust me to be on his team.”

This is so bad, so much worse than I thought it was going to be. “He knew who you were? Like he knew about Spider-Man?” I plopped down on my bed, the springs squeaking loudly under my weight. “ Peter! Now what is he gonna do? You don’t show up to Germany so he gives your name to the Feds?” I pinched my nose and looked down, I think my big toe was starting to make a frayed hole through my shoe. “And what about school?”

“School can wait. Look, Lena, Mr.Stark is having a guy pick me up in half an hour to go to the airport and I really need to pack and figure out something to tell Aunt May. I promise you I’ll call you on the plane.” 

“Fine, Pete if you wanna pack I’ll come over and lend a hand, it’s the least I can do.” Not giving Peter a chance to respond I end the call, throwing my phone onto the unmade bed behind me. 

This is ridiculous. My door slams against the wall as I stalk through the frame, Nana is in the TV room, a program on low as she works on a crossword. 

The room is neat, as if no one really lives in it at all. Nana always sits curled up in her blue chair, the TV angled toward her right, and a window with the blinds halfway up to her left. 

She doesn’t even glance toward me when I crash into the space. 

“Nana, I’m going to Peter’s, he’s being an idiot and needs my help.”  

She just waves her hand at me calmly and adjusts her glasses perched precariously on her nose. 

A jean jacket is haphazardly tossed onto my body and then I rip a portal into existence in the middle of the living room.  

Through the body sized hole I can see Peter furiously throwing clothes and knickknacks into his backpack. 

He glances at the portal swiftly but neither does he stop packing, nor moving around. 

With a backwards glance I see Nana waving to Peter animatedly, and he quickly smiles back before the hole closes on the scene. 

He continues to pack, zipping around the room, his eyes sweeping the floor quickly.

“Pete, calm down we gotta talk about this.”

Rummaging through a drawer he pulls out a pair of socks and sniffs them before shoving them in the stuffed bag. “I’m going.”

“You don’t even know why Stark needs your help!” I yell. “How do you know you want to be a part of it?”

He pauses, looking at my over his shoulder. “I trust him, he asked me why I fight, and I guess he liked what he heard.” Peter shrugged. “I told him the truth. I fight for the little guy, we both do Lena. When you’ve got powers like ours it’s your job, because if we do nothing and then bad things happen...they happen because of us.”

Shaking my head I grab Peter by the elbow and gently turn him away from the backpack “I agree with you, you know I do...it’s just, people like Stark have agendas Pete, sure he may think he’s looking out for the little guy but really what is he doing by-by exposing you and taking you away from your home?”

“He’s giving me the chance to save bigger and better things, Lena!” Pete says, tugging his arm from my grasp. “I feel so much guilt everyday, I-I couldn’t save Uncle Ben, I wasn’t there in time, and now Tony freaking Stark shows up in my bedroom asking for help and you want me to say no?”

“And you think I don’t feel that same guilt? I stood by while my fucking parents were murdered Pete, I didn’t do anything!” I screamed. “They were taken from me  _ because  _ of one man with hidden agendas, they were just a pawn in the game, and now Stark wants to place you on the board! There’s no going back from this once you make the decision, I hope you know that.” I shake my head, my breath coming fast. 

Peter doesn’t meet my eye, his hands clenched around the strap of his backpack. 

“I think it’s time I’m put on the board, Lena. and if it’s by my own choice then it shouldn’t matter to you. Mr.Stark can  _ help,  _ when I get back I’ll have a foundation to build on! I could even be an Avenger after this!”

I scoff, “So that’s what this is about? You just want to get in with Stark, line his pocket like the rest of those heroes he’s collected.” 

“So what if I do?” he shoots back, “at least I’ll be somebody, at least I’ll be able to say I tried to make the world better, rather than just standing in the same fucking place and watching the world crumble under my feet! Don’t you realize Lena that you preach looking out for the little people, but really you’re just trying to bury your guilt and anger under a pile of lies. You’ve always told me to stay in Queens, fight only for the people here in our  _ home _ , but so many more need saving! How is it right for you to tell me who  _ I  _ can and can’t save? You’re just a hypocrite!” Peter screamed, his chest heaving with every exclamation. “Going to Germany may be the wrong choice, but at least I’m doing something!”

Every point he made was like a punch to the gut. It made sense. His point of view. It hurt, but it made sense. 

I gave him a moment to calm down. His back toward me as he clenched and unclenched his hands. 

“Peter,” I said softly. There was scarcely a sound in the room. “I-I just don’t want to see you get hurt, I, Look I know you think you’re doing the right thing, maybe in the long run you are. But Pete you’re only 15, in what world is it okay for a grown man like Stark to ask a fucking highschool kid to help him do something dangerous, don’t even try to deny this shit Pete, it’s gonna be dangerous, you might not know what it is, or maybe you don’t want to tell me but I just want you to be careful. I don’t like Stark, you know that, but I’ll tolerate him to this point if he’s the one in charge of your safety, not just on the battlefield Pete but here too, he  _ knows  _ who you are now, and eventually other people will know too.”

Peter says nothing. He reaches one hand up to run it through his disheveled hair. 

He sighs, “You know, I think he knew you had powers too, or he knew something at least after meeting you. I-I denied everything don’t worry, but how could he know about me and not know anything about you? He had pretty HD videos of Spider-Man, and I’m pretty sure I saw a shaky clip of you on there too” He said, turning to look me in the face, he smiled shyly “Maybe you scared him off earlier, I guess he didn’t think he could convince you to come alone with us.”

“What made you think he knew who I was?” I asked. The thought of Stark knowing such a secret about me made my palms sweat in a very uncomfortable way.

Peter shrugged, “He mentioned how it was nice that I had someone like you to lean on, that with how close we are it’s good to have someone to watch your back when things get rough” Peter looked sheepish, “ I told him I was grateful, because you’ve always been there for me through thick and thin, you’d beat the crap out of anybody who’d even look at me funny...which I guess could give your identity away a little bit… I think he just had a hunch the minute he met you honestly, he knew who I was...and then just connected the dots from what little he had on you”

I exhaled through my nose, closing my eyes briefly “Great, this is great, Stark knows, everybody knows, I’d better pack for when they come kidnap me and send me to mutant prison camp.”

“Shut up, that’s not gonna happen, anyway I’d bust you out the first night.” Peter says.

I laugh, “Yeah you better.”

Peter glances down at his phone. “Some guy named Happy is coming to pick me up soon, then we’ll go to the airport from there...maybe it would be better if you head home, so Mr. Stark doesn’t arrest you for assaulting his employee when they shove me into the limo.” He grins. 

In a rush of emotion I pull Peter into my arms. He’s getting taller, my eyes only reach level to his nose now. We sway back and forth for a minute before Aunt May knocks on the bedroom door. “Peter, your ride is here!” she calls out. 

He throws his bag over his shoulder, it looks about ready to burst. "I'm going to do this, Lena.. and I just hope I have your support. You can't make me stay, and I don't want to leave on bad terms." He looked so grave

I smile softly, "Of course, Peter. I know I can't stop you, but I just don't trust Stark. I trust you though, wholeheartedly." 

He shoots me a grateful smile. 

I stop him before he walks out the door, “ Keep your phone on you at all times Parker, and just be careful alright? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

He smirks, “Nice, then I can do practically anything I want.”

“Shut up, I love you.”

His laugh follows him out the door and he lazily calls back “Love you too!”

=========================================

=========================================

I’m not very good at the waiting game. 

I knew that the flight to Germany would take around 8 hours, maybe less if Stark had his own private super jet, which I’m 98% sure he does. 

I could tell Nana was getting tired of my fidgeting. I would pace the hall, checking my phone for another message every couple of minutes. 

She finally got up and left saying she was going to ‘visit’ Mr.Delmar down at the deli. I doubt that she’ll remember to bring me back a sub like I asked. 

I wonder what Peter’s doing right now. It’s his first time on a plane too. God whoever’s in charge of babysitting him must be about ready to drop him out the emergency hatch. Peter never shuts up when he gets excited. 

He didn’t call me when he got to the airport, but he did shoot me a quick message with his hotel details and a promise to keep me updated when he got to Germany. 

It read - ‘ _Lena, there’s free drinks in the back of this car, that’s how fancy it is. Also, Happy, Mr.Starks chauffeur/bodyguard something or other, said we’re staying at the Hotel Fürstenhoff in Leipzig, I hope I’ve got a giant room, what if there’s a pool, how cool would that be. I’ll text you when we touch down! -Pete._ ’

The dork. I googled the hotel and it does in fact have a pool and looks way too fancy for Peter to handle. 

The sun had already gone down, and the constant worry was making my eyes droop. I laid down in my bed, my body aching when coming in contact with the soft mattress. 

I'm so tired. 

Come on, Lena stay awake, you gotta wait up for Peter. 

Come on, come on, come on. Stay awake!

But my eyes didn’t stay open for long.

===============================

===============================

“ _ But I don’t want you to move to New York!” I screamed. My mother was stretching up on her toes to reach the higher cabinets, she’d pull down dishes and mugs to pack in bubble wrap and then tuck them lightly into a large cardboard box on the counter. The side read ‘Fragile’ in bold black letters.  _

_ “Magdalena, cariña, your Dad and I were offered a very good position there. We’re moving to make a better life for ourselves, better than we’ve ever had here, Mija.” My mom said, her hair was pulled sloppily into a bun, and curls were beginning to fall around her ears.  _

_ Dad walked in through the garage door. He was carrying boxes too. His brow was lined in sweat, and his denim shirt clung to his back. It’s a hot day to be outside hefting boxes.  _

_ The box made a loud clang as he set it down near the opening of the hall. He ran the back of his arm against his face, Mom handed him a glass of water when he came into the kitchen. _

_ The continued to pack together. There went the plates, and the pans, and that one mug I chipped on Christmas three years ago, and the ugly china from my uncle, all packaged and gone. _

_ Dad plucked magnets from the fridge. His hand hesitated when faced with the only photo on the fridge. It was taken almost five years ago, the edges were a bit waterlogged but it was still in good condition. Mom and Dad had their arms around me, Nana was there as well standing by mom, it was the first day of school.  _

_ I must have made a noise when Dad took it down because he turned to me, and saw my distressed face staring back. _

_ “Que pasa, mi amor?” He asked, smoothing the hair away from my face, Mom had come to rub a soothing hand on my back “What has happened, Mija?” _

_ Tear began to pool in my eyes and my chin wobbled dangerously. “Y-You can’t take the picture too” I cried, snot running down onto my lip “How will I remember what you all look like when you go to New York?” _

_ Both my parents threw back their heads to laugh. “Oh, Magdalena, darling, did you think all this time we were going to leave you behind?” My mother asked. They both had knelt down, reaching eye level with me.  _

_ I pouted “I-I don’t know, mama. I thought you were going and I was staying.” I wailed.  _

_ “No, cariña, we’re all going to New York! Of course we wouldn’t leave you behind!” Dad said, his warm hands on my shoulders.  _

_ A bead of sweat was running down his temple.  _

_ The chin wobbling stopped and yet the snot continued to run. “I’m going too? Even Nana?” _

_ Mom nodded and sat, pulling me onto her lap, my head tucked gently under her chin.  _

_ “Of course, we would never leave you, Magdalena. Never.” _

_ Dad’s hand had yet to leave my shoulder. Everything felt warm, safe.  _

_ “Family stays together, no matter what.”  _

_ I offered them a wobbly smile.  _

_ After a few moments, Dad stood, then followed by Mom.  _

_ She offered a hand, and gave me a tissue. _

_ “Para tus mocos.” She chuckled when I hid my face. “Come help us Mija, and then we’ll go to Nana’s and see what she’ll try to convince us to keep this time.” _

_ I stood and threw my arms around her.  _

_ ============================= _

_ ============================= _

_ “How are you gonna explain that one to May?” I snickered.  _

_ Peter and I sat on the edge of a nearby building, we could look down and watch as the police came and scooped up the assholes we had just dealt with. _

_ Currently, said assholes were still bouncing on lines of webbing attached to the ceiling inside of the bank. Four unconscious and one guy awake looking like a caterpillar wiggling in its cocoon. I could barely make out the note we’d left on the open vault in the back. _

_ The ledge we perched on gave a perfect view for the show that was about to go down.  _

_ I took a sip of water and watched as Peter dabbed gingerly at his split lip. _

_ Thankfully it had stopped bleeding, but the bottom half of his face was a bit puffy.  _

_ Peter glared my way,”Maybe she won’t notice?”  _

_ I scoffed, May not noticing Peter’s lip would be like waking up and not noticing that the sun was actually neon pink. _

_ “Shut up, like your grandma won’t notice your massive black eye.” Peter shot back. _

_ I mean he’s got a point there. _

_ “Oh? The black eye I wouldn’t have gotten if you could just stop getting punched in the face every once in a while? That one?” I tossed the water bottle his way, and he caught it in one hand. _

_ Peter shrugged, “Well, nobody asked you to flip out and go all hulk when some guy clipped me in the lip, honestly I was shocked that jerk got a hit in, good for him, God knows I’ve been trying for years.” He laughed.  _

_ “Fuck off, Parker.” He laughed again as I shoved his shoulder with mine. “Ow, don’t make me laugh my face hurts.” Hopefully his lip didn’t start bleeding again, its been going on and off for a while.  _

_ “You try not flipping your shit when a literal child gets punched in the face not two feet from you.” I said. _

_ “I’m 15, Lena.” _

_ “Case and point, Parker.” _

_ “Whatever.” _

_ The cops had finally shown up. They took a couple minutes to gape and point at the suspended figures in the bank, but I guess they were pretty used to our stuff by now to just roll with it.  _

_ We watched in silence as they loaded them into the cop cars.  _

_ The phone in my back pocket vibrated, but I ignored it. “Hey, Pete, you know we’ve been doing this for almost a year now?” I asked. _

_ He sighed, looking out to the city, “Yeah...I can’t believe it. I feel like I’ve been doing it all my life.” He paused. “Do you regret it, coming out with me? You could’ve walked off the first night we met, but you kept coming back. I-I don’t regret any of it.”  _

_ Oh Pete. His face was flushed a bit and yet he kept his face stoically toward the cops driving away before us.  _

_ “I don’t regret a single moment of it.” I said. He turned to meet my eye and his face split into a smile, my eyes crinkling when I smiled back. _

_ “Owwww.” We both groaned. My eye was really starting to swell up, and it looks like Peter’s lip had started bleeding. He just continued to dap at it with the edge of his suit. Red on Red.  _

_ “Lena, if you-do you- you can stop anytime, if you want to that is. I-I can do it on my own, if you want to stop.” Peter looked brave. His eyes held mine steadily, and reflected the retreating lights of the police cars. Red and Blue sparking in his irises.  _

_ “As long as you’re doing it Pete, I’ll never stop.” I said, “Family stays together, no matter what.” _

_ Peter’s mouth went slack for a moment, his eyebrows arching into his hair. “Family?” he whispered.  _

_ Tears pricked in my eyes. I love this kid so much, so damn much what wouldn’t I do for him? _

_ “Yeah, family.” _

_ I could only let out a surprised squeak as Peter crushed me in his arms.  _

_ With his super strength I knew he could easily break me in half.  _

_ Oh well, cracking a rib or two would be worth it, anything for family.  _

_ ========================================== _

_ ========================================== _

“Family.” I gasped. 

Surging up in my bed, the sheets tangled at my feet and I fell to the ground in a disgruntled heap. 

I kicked my feet aggressively trying to get untwisted. 

The sun was up! What time was it?

Running my hands quickly over my bed and under it, my phone was nowhere to be seen. 

I slid down the hall, my feet sliding on the wooden floors. 

“NANA!” I shrieked. “Where’s my phone?”

She stood calmly at the stove, her apron wrapped tightly around her waist. 

Paying me no mind, she continued to stir the eggs in her pan. 

I reached up to tug on my hair in panic, wincing as I tugged too hard on the roots. 

“Nana, please where’s my phone?” I asked, as calmly as possible. 

She simply hummed in response, “I had a very nice evening with Mr.Delmar. We talked and talked, did you know his family grew up not  _ three  _ miles from ours, how -”

“NANA!” I yelled, “Please, it’s important. It’s about Peter.”

She turned, untied her apron, and reached to turn down the burner on the stove. 

“I put it to charge in the living room, it kept beeping and buzzing I thought surely it would wake you up, so I moved it so you could sleep, Mija.” She barely got two words out before I was sprinting out of the room.

My phone was fully charged and sitting on a side table. I quickly swiped it open. 

Three missed calls from Peter, and four texts. 

Exhaling through my nose, I opened the texts first. 

_ Lena! I’m in Germany! So far so good, the hotel is sick! Happy says I have a whole room to myself. Call me back! _

_ Are you asleep??  _

_ Ohhh, its 3am in New York. Sorry about the calls. I miss you! _

And the last message 

_ I sent you a video. Watch it! We’re leaving soon for Mr.Stark’s ‘errand’, which is what Happy keeps calling it. I’m so nervous I might puke in the mask. Call me when you get this! (watch the video first) _

The last text was only sent 34 minutes ago! 

At least I knew Peter got there in one piece. Honestly that made a lot of the panic disappear. 

Sitting down on the couch, I pulled open the video file

Peter’s face filled the frame. 

His hair was horribly messy and he had a couple bags under his eyes, but otherwise he looked great. 

The video started off shaky. Peter basically gave a tour of the entire room, which was super fancy. Way more than what a 15 year old needs. 

He’d keep flipping from his face, either he stood there with a gaping mouth or a smile, and then switched it to point at something and say ‘Look at this thing!”

Pretty sure he jumped out the window and stood on the side of the building just to get a shot of how close the pool is to his hotel room. Oh Pete. 

Once the tour was over he walked over to a living space. The camera pointed at a solid silver case sitting on the table. 

Peter briefly showed his face, ‘Watch this.’

Pressing a hidden button on the side the case flew open to reveal a red...suit?

It was hard to get a good look at it, Peter kept zooming in and out, chanting a consistent “look at it, Lena” , I’m definitely looking Peter. 

He switched the camera to his face, “Mr.Stark made me a suit!” He gushed, “It’s so badass, Lena. I wish you could see it. It actually has cool goggles that don’t dig into my eyeballs, and there’s a spider, and webs, and it’s so comfortable, which is pretty nice because,yeah. Although it is pretty tight. Oh my god what if I get a wedgie while fighting bad guys. Do you  _ know  _ how embarrassing that would be.” Peter grabbed it out of the case and made sure to get every angle on film. 

It is a super cool suit, I can admit that. 

“Oh! And look, I think Mr.Stark made you a suit too!” 

What. 

Tony Stark made me a suit?

“I guess he thought he was gonna find both of us and get us to come to Germany. Imagine me and you in these super suits, wouldn’t we look so badass.” Peter lugged out a second case from under the table. It was the same size, and sleek grey. 

He pressed the hidden button and the case swished open. 

Holy shit. Inside was all dark blue beauty and accented shots of electric blue. It was sleek. It looked soft, and yet so strong. It looked amazing, even for being Stark tech. 

Accented with electricity down the arms and legs and up the collar the suit looked  _ dangerous _ . The rest was midnight blue, gorgeous. Secretly, I loved it.

Peter was still going on about how much he loves both the suits, and even went to hold up his next to mine. 

I’m already calling it mine, Jesus, Lena. 

“Maybe I can swipe it for you on the way home.” Peter said. He made sure everything was all packed up and then closed the case. The blue fabric disappearing behind the grey box it sat in.

Peter talked a bit more about the hotel, and his suit and then responded to a muffled voice from somewhere else. I’m guessing it was that Happy guy.

He flipped the camera to face him fully. 

“Okay, I guess it’s time to suit up.” He looked nervous, excited but nervous. “I-I’ll call you when it’s over. Just know that I’m gonna do my best. Mr.Stark said that I have to fight Captain America, I guess he’s gone crazy or something. I...don’t really know what to feel about that, but I’m gonna help Mr.Stark any way I can.” Peter gulped. 

No, Pete don’t go. You’re really going to fight Captain America? And what? Just because Stark snaps his fingers and says ‘go’. 

“I know you don’t really approve of this whole thing, but hopefully you get this video long after it’s over.” His eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked nervously over his shoulder as there was another muffled sound from the corridor. 

“See you soon, Lena. Love you.”

The video ended. It ended and stayed stuck on the last frame of Peter’s face. 

He didn’t look ready. He looked confused. Maybe excited yeah, but also a bit afraid. 

He shouldn’t be there alone. Why did I let him go alone. 

Stuffing the phone in my pocket I made my way to my bedroom, and shoved my dirty suit into my backpack once more. 

I rushed to the kitchen, Nana was still by the stove. 

“Nana, I’ve got to go. Peter needs my help.”

She nodded and turned toward me, her arms held out for a hug. 

“You go, take care of that boy. Don’t let him get hurt.” She said, embracing me “You both may be super heroes, but you still need help sometimes, especially from each other. Did you grab your suit?”

“Yeah, Nana I did-wait, what did you just say?” I gasped, holding her at arm's length so I could see her face. 

She smirked, her red nails tapping against the side of her head “What? You think I’m stupid,  _ una pendeja eh?  _ You just confirmed my suspicions anyway.” She patted me on the cheek. “Watch out for that little  _ araña,  _ and please be careful. Be home soon, I love you so much, Mija.”

“Nana, I love you so much. I don’t have time to freak out about any of this but, also thanks for understanding. I love you wow.” 

I gave her one last hug, and then stepped back.

Hefting the bag onto my shoulder, I checked the suit over one more time. 

It was crumpled, and smelled terrible. You know what? Stark made a perfectly good suit for  _ me _ . And dammit, I’m going to use it.

I tossed the bag onto the couch, and pulled out my phone.

Checking the pulled up image I stared at the outside of Peter’s hotel, it was a clear view from the street. 

God, please hope this works. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to picture exactly what the hotel looks like. 

I swung my arms out in front of me and felt the air come alive. The raging of the portal warming my skin. 

Glancing back quickly I smiled at Nana, she waved, and then I stepped into nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> Mija : my daughter  
> Cariña: Beauty  
> Que Pasa: What's up  
> Mi amor: My love  
> Para tus mocos: For your boogers/snot  
> una pendeja: an idiot/moron  
> Araña: spider
> 
> I'm still working out a schedule, but I'm super excited about the plot rn so I'm just gonna be posting when I've got something written!  
> Hope you're enjoying it !


	4. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena goes abroad, gets a badass suit, and meets some new people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> This chapter was difficult to write. I kept pausing and coming back to it. I guess it's a lot harder to write for movie scenes rather than something straight out of your brain. I hope it all made sense and the times lined up.
> 
> Let me know what you think, lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

The hotel room was surprisingly much cleaner than I thought it was going to be.

Peter really did have a whole suite to himself. His backpack looked like it had exploded in the bedroom, clothes were hanging off the ceiling fan, and were strewn crazily over the TV and dresser.

Every door in the place was opened, honks and wheel screeches sounding through the fancy space. I quietly shut the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. 

If I left the mini fridge open just a smidge, well then tell Stark to put it on my tab. It looked like Peter grabbed all the chocolate out of it anyway. 

Peter’s silver case sat empty on the couch. The red suit gone. 

Mine was still shoved under the coffee table. I hefted it onto the couch next to Peter’s and ran my fingers over its smoothed edges. The latch hidden from sight, hidden among the sleek lines of the case. 

I ran my fingers carefully over the sides, overtop and on the bottom. Aha. My thumb slid slightly into dented slant. With a big woosh it swung open. 

The suit looked even better in person. The blue even more electric up close, and the darkness of the fabric made it look like I was swimming in a lightning storm. 

It was incredibly soft, and seemed pliable. The material stretched around my hands as I pulled at it, was it bullet proof? No time to check anyway. 

It went on like a loose onesie and then molded to me like a glove.  The bright blue accents highlighted my collar bones, and honestly made my legs look freakishly long. Thanks, Stark. 

I had to wear my own beat up boots with it, the scratched brown leather clashing with the expensive looking outfit.

Oh well. I guess footwear went beyond the Stark fashion brand. 

Once I had the suit on, I looked through the rest of the open case. Caught inside was a smaller compartment. Inside sat a wadded up mess of dark fabric. The same midnight blue as the suit. And next to it a miniscule piece of tech. An earpiece? Ugh, do I want to have Stark speaking directly into my ear canal? 

The dark fabric unfolded to reveal a mask. It resembled my bandana. Maybe Stark did catch me on video. The bandana and the blue matching my sizzling portals. 

I pulled the mask over my head, and immediately it adhered to the neck of my suit. Magnets? Velcro? Who knows, but it blended seamlessly with the collar. Pulling it up over my mouth and nose I found it to be perfectly breathable. No more of the muffled voice and Batman-esque huskiness then. The fabric stretched and moved with every turn of my head.  

With the mask on I made sure to avert my eyes from the many mirrors lining the walls. My hair swung loose, obscuring the sides of my vision in a haze of black shadows. 

I think if I caught a glimpse of the chess piece Stark assembled me to be, I’d lose my nerve. 

Oh yes. I knew that even putting the suit on was relinquishing a bit of control over to Stark. He already had Peter, and I’d be damned if I let Pete go it alone. In terms of chess, I’d think of myself as the queen anyway. Unpredictable, and incredibly valuable to have on your side. 

Taking a last look around the room, I closed the empty silver case and turned the earpiece over in my hand. It was black, and maybe an inch larger than my thumbnail. No going back once I slide this in. 

My phone, I placed on silent. I shot a quick text to Peter before I got to Germany that said something along the lines of  _I’m coming to pick you up from daycare. I'll be there soon._ But I doubt he got it in time. 

I stashed my phone in a hidden pocket by my thigh. Seriously the suit has  _pockets,_ straight from a wet dream if I do say so myself. 

I juggled the earpiece and then placed it in my ear and tapped it once. Immediately voices started ringing out. It sounded like they were all standing right next to me, no static contaminating the line whatsoever. 

“...the airport on lockdown. Evacuate all civilians. Don’t give Ross the heads up until we have  eyes on all of them. Barnes, Rogers, and Wilson top our most wanted list.” Stark’s voice was hard. I thought I could hear engines whirring in the background. I guess Iron Man was ready for action. “Ideally we’d rack up Wanda and Clint before it all goes to shit.” 

_Barnes._ Where do I know that name from.

“You really think you’ll get Cap to stand down?” A man piped in. He sounded anxious, but not out of nerves more out of being wound up tight and waiting for the snap. “Why not just wrap it up nice and quick, grab Barnes, Rogers, and Wilson, send Ross in, and then ferry Wanda away back to the facility. Vision could do it, we could get Clint back on house arrest, like nothing. Ross doesn’t even know they’re involved at this point.” 

I could hear Stark sigh “It’d be  _too_  easy that way. And not to mention if I even touched a hair on Barnes’ head without Rogers’ go ahead there’d be hell to pay. No, we give them a chance. Clint, Wilson,  _Wanda,_ they chose their beds, and now they’re gonna lay in them.” 

“Tony, just, really give them a chance to stand down.” A woman this time. Her voice calm and collected “Make sure you get across what’s really at stake here. Rogers isn’t stupid. He’ll know what you’re implying, but at least give all of them a chance to back out.” 

“I agree with Miss Romanoff,” Holy shit  _Natasha Romanoff_ is in my ear, “Captain Rogers will see reason if given the opportunity to do so.” Again, an unknown man spoke. A British man?

“I’ll try,” Stark said, “We’re on a deadline here people, there’s only so much I can do before Ross shows up with his goons.” Armor clinked, hollow footsteps sounding through the earpiece “If it comes down to it, and it is us versus them, well then, step up and do your job.” 

There was silence from the other side. A beat, maybe two. 

“Tony, we’re with you on this.”

“Good.” 

Airport, they’re at the airport. Come on Lena! The fight hasn’t started there’s still time to catch them. Is Peter even there? I didn’t hear his squeaky voice pipe up in the conversation, but on second thought I wouldn’t have said anything either. 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.  _Shit,_ has my data been on roaming this whole time??? There goes hundreds of dollars down the drain, one more thing to worry about.

I'm here, there’s no going back now.

And the closest airport was almost two hours away, fantastic. 

What to do. What do I do now?

Okay, calm down I can do this. I got to Germany didn’t I?

I pulled up a picture of the airport. It looked doable, normal terminals, normal airplanes. Let’s just hope I don’t end up at like LaGuardia, that would suck. Okay, here goes nothing. 

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I clenched my eyes and focused on the airport. 

Ripping a portal into existence. I didn’t even glance at it before stepping through. 

The static of the portal felt off, uncomfortable, but just left me with a bit of an ‘I’ve definitely got too much static electricity in my body’ feeling. Maybe next time I portal a la google images  I’ll just touch Stark’s metal cocoon and watch him get zapped. Would that even work?

The airport terminal was empty. It looked as if the space was evacuated in a hurry. 

“I’ve got eyes on Rogers! Terminal 8, making his way toward a grounded helicopter.”

A quick look up and the sign above my head read ‘Flughafen 3’. Hopefully that means terminal. Anyway, I’ll just have to book it to the across the airport. 

“”I see him.” Stark said, engines surging in the background, “Everybody ready?”

“Uh, Mr.Stark what should I do?” Peter was here! Come on, Pete there’s still time to back out. 

“Just wait for the signal, kid.” Stark replied. 

“Um, and what’s the signal exactly?” Peter asked. His voice lilting up at the end.

“Oh you know.” Stark drawled “It’ll be something flashy, then you’ll swing in and bam Rogers is down for the count.”

Stark wants Peter to go up against Captain America? Not that I’m doubting Pete, but come on it’s  _Captain America_ we’re talking about here. 

Peter just made a nervous ‘uh-huh ok’ noise and then there was a loud clunk, and the sound of something being torn apart.

“Helicopter’s down.”

A sign to my right passed in a blur, so I quickly backpedalled. Jumping over abandoned luggage carts and littered coffee cups, the entire place felt eerily unoccupied. My lungs were heaving, man I really need to run more. The stitch in my side was flaring with every inhale. Terminal 6, okay two more to go. 

I rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt. 

There crouched by the far window were two men. They’re attention focused outside on the Airfield. 

As soon as I rounded the corner their attention snapped to me. Immediately the man on the right stood, his eyes locking me in place, and leveled his gun at my chest. 

The other man, the one on the left, lifted a hand to adjust his red goggles. The sound of whirring tech reaching my ears.  

They were both dressed in tactical gear, one of them a gleaming metallic looking fixture on his arm, and the other decked out with what looked like a jetpack strapped to his back.

Carefully I held up my hands, trying to show I wasn’t a threat. 

“Who are you?” Goggles clipped. Neither of them relaxing their position. 

Scarcely I could hear Stark talking in the background “...gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?”

I moved my hands toward my face slowly. If I spoke would Stark and his team be able to hear me through the earpiece too? Would Peter?

The metal armed man clicking the safety off his gun was like a warning shot. I held my hand out again resolutely, trying to urge them, ‘just give me a second’.

I quickly tapped the earpiece and the voices went quiet, the last “...Tony, I can’t” coming softly from the other end, barely audible. 

“I-I’m not here to hurt you. I...came for a friend?” I ended on a question. Not sure what these men wanted to hear. 

“Oh yeah? Who’s your friend?” Goggles asked, his hand had moved up to his ear. Who knew who else was listening to this conversation between us.

“Uh, that's kind of on a need to know basis, sorry.” 

Neither of them sounded like Stark’s men. Or maybe, they were, but I couldn’t be sure. It doesn’t matter much, I thought it was better to keep myself neutral, don’t give them a side to put me on just yet “I’m not here to hurt anybody, I promise.”  

The goggled man relaxed his position slightly. The other, his hands clenched tightly on the gun was dragging his eyes over my face in quick succession. A furrow lining his brow every time he glanced at my mask for too long. He would catch my eye, and then zero in on the piece of hair I could feel tickling the side of my jaw, and then swing wildly to glare at the mask. Does it  frighten him, the emotionless black cloth covering half my face. All they could see of me were my eyes, and hopefully that was enough. 

I started backing up slowly, “Look, I really have to run.” I said, “I don’t want him, m-my friend, to get hurt, please.” 

His eyebrows furrowed even deeper, his eyes catching mine once more. Blue. Midnight Blue. An ocean hiding a tranquil sea or a raging tempest. He shifted slightly, putting more weight on his heels, his hands unclenching from the weapon. Could he see the faint desperation painted in my gaze as strongly as I was trying to project it?

Tapping the earpiece quickly, I made sure it was on. I heard the sweep of voices start up again. 

The men were frozen It was hard to see the expression of the guy wearing the bulky goggles, and I’m not sure I could’ve read his face even if he took them off. The blue eyed man next to him looked conflicted. His mouth set in a harsh line, but his eyes speaking for the conflict I thought they held. 

I sliced my hands backwards and opened a portal at my back. The men jumped back. Again, the gun tightening in on my position, but then lowering in the same instant. The goggled man raised his arm to shoot, I don’t know what, but the metal arm shot out, catching him across the chest. It made a dull sound when making contact with the man’s tactical vest. The goggled man making a surprised exclamation as the metal arm stopped him in his tracks. Blue eyes blinked once. 

I stepped back into a portal, watching the image in front of me vanish, but not disappearing before I heard a jilted “What the hell-” and then I reappeared not 50 feet behind them and took off at a dead sprint. 

The chairs and empty cafe’s passed in a blur of color. Terminal 7 went by in the blink of an eye. 

“Steve, you know what’s about to happen.” Romanoff said quietly, “Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?”

This is bad, so much worse than I imagined. 

Stark and Captain Rogers were going to fight it out, that was being made apparent with every passing moment. Their dispute about the Accords, or the bombings...or something was enough to split the team in two. Maybe indefinitely. Friend against friend. Peter was brought here as just a show of force, of  _numbers_ for the battle. I had to find Peter, and get him out of here. 

If worse comes to worse, would I have to choose too? No doubt, one team already knew I was here. Probably Cap’s now that I think about it. If it was Stark’s I’d no doubt be hearing some spiel about an ‘unknown vagabond’ or something of that nature, and maybe Peter would’ve found me by now. 

Terminal 8 came upon me like a freight train.

It too looked as if it had been abandoned in a panic. I carefully approached the window. 

I could just make out the figures standing below. There stood, Stark, his red armor gleaming in the sun, and to his left another suit. This one made for clear intimidation and destruction, unlike Iron man which stood tall in all its regal elegance. Natasha Romanoff stood by them. A lithe black clad figure, standing as an equal before these men. Another figure, unknown. Black all head to toe, but their suit also gleamed under the sun. Iridescent and controlled in its stance. 

One more. There, alone standing before these powerful opponents. Captain America. Hands at his sides, one curled around the form of his legendary shield. Poised, yet also braced, he could explode into motion any second. His shoulders were back, his head high. 

“All right, I’ve run out of patience...Underoos!” Stark called. 

Then,  a red streak zipped into the scene. It flipped impressively over the heads of the others, yanked the shield from Cap’s grasp and webbed his hands together in the process.  

No it can’t be. Was that Peter? 

Stark didn’t take his eyes off the Captain in front of him “Nice job, kid.”

“Thanks. Well, I could’ve stuck the landing a little better. It’s just the new suit...Well, it’s nothing, Mr.Stark, I-It’s perfect, thank you!” Peter stammered. 

He stood, motioning at the suit, the shield waving wildly in front of him. 

Stark turned to Peter, “Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation.”

“Okay…” Peter said “Cap-Captain, big fan, I’m Spider-Man.” He offered an awkward salute. 

I need to get closer, I can barely make out their facial expressions from back here. How do I get Peter alone? I can’t exactly just portal into the middle of that and not expect them to give chase. 

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it later, just…” Stark said. His body now drawn away from the Captain so as to focus on Peter. 

“Hey everyone” Spider-Man waved to the crowd. 

I’d bet 20 bucks Stark is rolling his eyes right now, but so am I. 

“Good job.”

Captain Rogers shifted his weight, “You’ve been busy.” 

Stark swung around to face Rogers “and you’ve been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. ‘Rescuing’ Wanda from a place she doesn’t even want to leave, a safe place. I’m trying to keep...I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.” Stark finished defeatedly. 

Rogers stood stoically, not moving a muscle during Stark’s speech. 

Stark was giving him an out, one that neither of them would be happy with, but an out nonetheless. I could tell from here, Rogers  _knew_ his decision already. He wasn’t going to back down now. 

“You did that when you signed.” 

Was this whole confrontation about the Accords? Was that what it all dwindled down to, who signed and who didn’t? 

There’s too much at stake here, how could a signature impact the unity of the Avengers. They’re the Avengers! How can something like this split them apart? 

“Alright, we’re done.” Stark said aggressively, his anger spiking with every passing second “You’re gonna turn Barnes over, you’re gonna come with us,  _NOW._ Because it’s us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys...with no compunction about being polite.”  

Captain Rogers turned his face away. 

Barnes. That name again, where..Barnes.  _Barnes_ . Holy shit. 

Vienna, Berlin.  _That_  Barnes? Here? James Buchanan Barnes. 

...but why with Captain America. Obviously something was wrong, Cap wouldn’t risk his team just for one guy, one bomber. There’s more to it than that. 

Barnes, Barnes, Barnes. 

_Bucky Barnes._

No fucking way. 

The puzzle was slowly making sense, but the edges were smudged, blurry. I had the pieces but couldn’t make sense of them. 

Bucky Barnes was here, alive, with Captain Rogers. Best friends since childhood, since the 40’s. Alive! 

Was he the bomber? Was he wrongly accused? What’s going on here. 

“Hey guys, something-” Peter stammers. 

Suddenly, Cap throws his arms up, the web slicing cleanly in half as a rigid arrow is sent flying. The arrow hits not five feet from my face into the side of the terminal window. It doesn’t even waver from the impact, but the glass splinters out from the arrowhead. 

I was so startled I fell back, a gasp leaving my lips. An arrow can only come from one place, an  _archer._

I shot onto my feet, and placed my palms on the window trying to find where it came from, anything, but I was too far away. The people below a blur in my eyes as I searched for the archer.  

_An arrow cocked in the string of his bow, made of harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes. Barton. Dad. Mom. Pain._

I gasped, raking in breath. It can’t be. Plenty of people know archery right? No need to panic. 

My ears felt like they were filled with cotton balls. “...there’s two in the parking deck. One of them’s Maximoff. I’m gonna grab her. Rhodey, want to take Cap?” Stark’s voice fizzled back into my consciousness. 

There’s nothing I can do about it now. Find Peter, get home. 

Shaking my head, I back away from the window, not wanting anyone to see me.

“Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes.”

“Barnes is mine.” There’s a jet of black as one of the suited figures dives forward. 

Two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes. Did I pass them on my way here?

“Hey! Mr.Stark, what should I do?” Peter called out. 

“What we discussed. Just keep your distance, web them up.” Stark responded.

Peter took off. I tried to follow his trek with my eyes but he was fast. He was swinging over and under the planes, flipping off of large crates and crawling on the sides of the building. 

Dammit Peter. 

I took off running back the way I came. Back toward terminal 6 and 7. 

The empty chairs and cafe’s passing quickly. 

My legs pumped underneath me. I snuck quick peeks outside every few feet, trying to guess where Peter was heading. 

“We’ve got an unknown!” Someone yelled into the earpiece.  _Shit._  “Coming up fast! Making their way toward Wilson and Barnes.”

Hopefully that’s where Peter’s heading. Wilson and Barnes must have been the men I’d seen on the way in, they must be. 

“I’m on it.” Stark called out. I saw a streak out of the corner of my eye. Ah shit. 

I threw my arms out ahead of me. The portal sprang to life and I dove through. 

My landing was less than spectacular. I rolled into it, relying on my elbows to stop the momentum. 

Stark was cursing. “They’re gone.” He said, “Literally dove straight into the ground and then disappeared, who could have- Jesus, not you, please tell me it’s not Spider-Kid’s mean nanny.”

I chuckled, getting to my feet. “Sorry, to crash the party, Stark, should’ve brought some of that  _walnut loaf_  you love so much.”

Stark made a gagging noise into his helmet, “Are you wearing my suit? You’re wearing my suit aren’t you. I don’t think I gave you permission to do that. Maybe you’d like to give it back just about now.”

I stood and kept running. I had landed by the window where I met Barnes and Wilson before, but they weren’t here. 

“No can do,  _viejo_ , finders keepers.” I retorted. 

By then voices had begun to ring out.

“Who-”

“Tony, what’s going on-”

“Uh-Don’t know. Keep an eye on her, she’s a wildcard.” Tony said. 

I shoved the noise to the background. Apparently Stark had lost interest because he zoomed past the terminals to start another fight somewhere else. 

I rounded the last corner, the shapes of Wilson and Barnes running through the terminal thwarted by Peter as he broke through the window, colliding feet first with the Goggles guy, who was thrown to the side. 

Immediately, the other man swung hard toward Peter. The metal of his arm colliding harshly with Peter’s palm. That punch would’ve straight up shattered my ulna. 

“You have a metal arm?? That’s awesome dude!” Peter cried. 

I yelled out as something rammed into Peter. Goggles can fly! I guess that  _was_ a jetpack, huh who knew. He’s got wings, big deal. 

“You’ve got the right to remain silent!” Followed as Peter grappled with the man, they swung about in midair. 

I caught up finally. My hands to my ribs, trying not to show how winded I was. 

The other man faced me, his eyes once more raking over my figure. 

We stood, not knowing what to make of each other. I snorted “ So, no gun this time?”

The man’s face broke into an easy smile. The corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. “Nah, I lost it back there. Didn’t see the use.” 

His eyes were still wary, they bounced between looking into my own eyes, and the covered face mask I still wore.

I didn’t know what to say. I could still see Peter trading quips with the winged man, and thought he was doing just fine. 

I tilted my head, “I’m Len-Blaze. I’m Blaze.” I said.

He raised his eyebrows, “I’m...Bucky.” He must have seen the surprise on my face for his expression turned slightly sour. He sighed and ran a hand quickly through his hair. “So..Blaze, are you friend or foe?” He asked. 

His eyes darting from the loose strands of hair framing my face, to the untied scuffed boots on my feet. 

I did the same. His hair almost the same, but a bit shorter than mine. The pools of inky sky, blue eyes. Metal arm. Hands loose at the sides. Chiseled jaw. 

I exhaled slowly, “I’m...not really on a side. Just here for a friend.” My gaze found Peter. He was suspended, sitting on a ledge toward the ceiling, he kept jumping out of Wilson's grasp at every point  “..but just between us? If it really comes down to it...and I know I’ve got no business being here whatsoever..but I’d be on your side.” I said. 

He looked surprised, scratch that, he looked very surprised.

“But-You don’t even know what we’re fighting for.” His eyes looked confused, worried, for me. 

I replied softly “I know enough, Bucky. I don’t want to sign the accords. I-I want to make sure I’m fighting for what I believe in, and if that means siding with your team? Then yeah I’d do it.” He still looked conflicted, but before he could get a word in I said “Look, I don’t know anything about any you, not really. As long as your ‘agendas’ match mine, then we don’t have a problem, alright pal?”

With his eyebrows still raised into his hairline Barnes replied “Yeah, that’s alright...why'd you even tell me that?”

Carefully I reached up, and tugged the face mask off. I guess I’d gotten used to it, but I gulped in the unrestricted air now that it was off. I offered Barnes a shy smile. "Well..I'm here, I  thought you could use a heads up, just know that you've got more allies out there than you think."

Now that the mask was off, his posture had changed drastically. His shoulders, which I hadn’t noticed were held taught, caved in a bit, and his jaw seemed to unhinge. He still had the hint of a smile on his face, but his eyes had clouded over. "I don't think I'm worthy of your support, doll." 

I did nothing but shoot him a confused glance in return. "It's not just for you, dumbass. Tell all your friends tuning in that I'm here as back up. Stark could use a good ass-kicking." Turning away from Barnes, I cupped my hands to my mouth “Hey! Aren’t you that Spider-Kid from YouTube?” I yelled.

Peter almost,  _almost_ , slid off the beam he was attached to. 

Barnes and I both jogged toward him. Wilson it seemed was webbed tight to the bannister in front of us. 

The eyes of Peter’s suit got comically wide. “Lena??” He said incredulously, “I-I mean, random lady, what are you doing here? In this specific airport? In  _Germany.”_ He seethed. 

I shot Barnes a wicked smirk to my left, he mouthed ‘Lena?’ at me, I shrugged, “Oh you know, realized I couldn’t let my asshole bestfriend fly all the way to Germany without me, also kinda realized that this is  _way_ over both our heads, and we’d probably just head home about now? Don’t you think?”  

“Um, yeah” Peter said. “Actually, I’m good where I am, thanks though.”

“Pet-Spider-Man, if you don’t crawl down that pole right now and portal with me back to America, I’m gonna climb up there and knock your teeth in, I swear to god.” I said, stomping my foot. 

Wilson gave a loud groan from the banister, “What you are guys? 12? Don’t think you’ve ever been in a fight before, but this isn’t usually how it goes.” 

All three of us swung around to gaze at Wilson. His arms held tight in the white webbing. 

“Yeah alright, my bad.” and then Peter pushed off, launching himself straight toward Wilson. 

I barely shot my hand out before Barnes was barreling past me. Peter collided with Barnes, and his momentum crashed into the captured Wilson and they fell to the floor below. Webs shot out holding them down. 

“Look guys, I’d love to keep this up, but I’ve only got one job today, and I’ve got to impress Mr.Stark.” Peter said from a perch near the ceiling. Before he could fling out any more webs, something flew by, latching on to Peter’s wrist and yanking him through the opposite window. 

“Dammit” I muttered."Peter!" I called out, but I couldn’t make out where he had landed. 

Inching closer to the gaping hole in the banister, I snickered at the sight of Wilson and Barnes stuck frozen to the ground. 

“Hah Hah, yeah laugh it up, Sweets” Wilson sighed, “Any chance you can un-stick us from this one? Heard your little spiel to Barnes over the comms, do a fellow team member a solid.”

I slid a hand through my hair, the face mask long gone in the rubble “Yeah no can do,Pal. I’m kinda busy. Nice to meet you though!” I waved. Wilson’s scowl and Barne’s soft chuckle followed me out of the terminal. 

I jogged away from the mess. The shadows of fighting pairs lined the air tarmacs and rockets exploded occasionally into the clear sky. 

The sounds of grunts and stunted conversations sounding over the earpiece. 

I gasped as I caught the sight of cars flying from the parking lot. Catapulting into Stark. His red suit going down under the heavy vehicles. 

“Shit, Stark. Are you okay?” I asked tentatively. The line remained constant, full of punches meeting flesh and short inhales of breath, maybe a shout. 

In the mess of noise I could pick him out “Yeah, I’m good.” He said, his voice sounded far away. “It’s all part of the job.”

I huffed. I was getting closer to the main tarmac. Where the fighting was the thickest. There was broken glass littering the empty seats now. 

“I heard what you said back there. About sides, and teams.” Engines whirred, and the sound of shifting metal sounded harsh in my ear.

I slowed my pace, walking through the abandoned terminal. I lightly kicked a small purse to the side, car keys falling out of a side pocket. 

“Yeah well...just thought I’d make it clear. If worse comes to worse.” I said. 

“You’re here, there’s no going back now. I think you’re in it for the long haul now.” Stark replied. I saw Iron Man lurch from the piled cars. His golden armor glinting in the light. “He’s not gonna go back with you. He’s got a taste for it, just as much as you have. You know what’s at stake here, and you made a choice.” 

I sighed, “Maybe so, at least he knows I’d show up for him. No matter what. I’m gonna stick by my choices.”

Stark’s voice was quiet on the other end. “But do you know what you’re willing to lose for them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> viejo: old man
> 
> God, people are hard to write. I hope you hear their voices more clearly in you head than I can.   
> Next chapter goes on to the rest of the airport battle. Lena meets Clint, which won't go too well.
> 
> Thanks for reading, kudos, comments, etc.  
> :)


	5. No Telling How It'll Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Peter hash it out.  
> Clint gets a surprise.  
> The fight begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler, but I've gotta set it up for Ch. 6!  
> There will be more fighting/action in the following chapter.  
> This was super hard to write for me idk why, but I powered through the bits of writers block!
> 
> Please enjoy  
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

The explosion shook the very foundation of the building, the windows shattering under waves of intense heat and pressure.

Stark was gone, flying somewhere overhead. I couldn’t see Peter anywhere.

I’d barely seen the massive form of a truck fly overhead before the explosion wrecked the building.

I felt glass scratch at my face and arms as I tried to shield myself from the it. I pulled the facemask up to cover my chin and nose. A cut on my cheek oozed blood, dampening the already darkened fabric.

My hands came away red when I rubbed at my skin.

“Is this part of the plan?” Natasha Romanoff’s voice rang out. Everything below on the ground was littered with rubble, nothing untouched from the battle so far.

“Well, my plan was to go easy on them. You wanna switch it up?” Stark sounded tired. His voice hardened by everything he’d had to deal with...so far.  

It’s time to get down there, I need to find Peter.

I picked my way through the glass on the floor. My hair was beginning to plaster itself to my forehead with sweat.

My cheek ached everytime I turned my head. I should’ve kept the mask on, maybe it would’ve blocked the glass. Was this gonna scar?

Taking a running start I jump out the broken window. My feet falling through a portal I conjured at the edge of the broken pane, the soles of my shoes barely making it over the jagged piece of glass still attached to the frame. The impact jarred my bones as I landed through the portal to the ground below. Man, this is really hard on the knees.

Jumping through portals seems cool, but once you’ve got momentum, there’s no way to slow down mid jump.

The sooner you jump through, the softer the landing. If you make a portal while you’re already falling at 30mph, you’re gonna hit the ground at 30mph. I learned that the hard way.

I braced a hand against my hip as I rotated my left knee softly. Ow.

The knee pain was forgotten as I made my way further into the open field.

The fire had begun to die down, but the smell of burnt rubber clung to the air like a dense fog.

Shadowed figures were picking themselves off the ground, flames still licked slowly over the tarred remains of the truck.

Slipping behind a forgotten luggage cart I took the time to catch my breath and think things through.

The burnt smell making my eyes tear and itch.

For the first time, the dark face mask was stifling. I couldn’t breathe, the smell, the warmth of the air, and the constant chatter in my ear making the world turn into static noise.

I ripped it from my face, the edge catching on the neck of my suit and pressing harshly into my throat. I heaved, coughing up nothing.

I-maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Peter didn’t need me here, he didn’t want me here.

What are you doing, Lena?

I’m so far over my head, I don’t even know what to do.

I’ve already basically declared my side, without even intending to join the fight.

Who am I kidding. I _knew_ that the moment I stepped into that portal back home and staggered onto the street in Leipzig that I was now part of something bigger. The knowledge made me uncomfortable, a twitching panic had set into my bones the second I’d entered that hotel room and gazed at the suit Stark had made for me. Subconsciously I knew there was no going back from that decision, saving Peter wasn’t the only reason I’d adamantly decided to confront Stark. There was something more, some intense feeling that urged me to follow Peter here. 

 _“_ _You’re just trying to bury your guilt and anger under a pile of lies. You’ve always told me to stay in Queens, fight only for the people here in our home ,but so many more need saving! How is it right for you to tell me who I can and can’t save?”_

Peter’s right. I think I came here out of guilt. I-Maybe, I could’ve done more that night, or done _something._ I stood by as my parents were killed by that man, that alien, that _thing._ I didn't do enough. 

Nana and I had cried as we watched the destruction brought down on New York the day aliens rained from the sky. She cried out in pain and sadness, I cried out in anger. They had destroyed my life and my home.

So yeah, maybe I was dead set on protecting my people in Queens, but why wouldn’t I be? I had to make up for my mistakes somehow. 

People talked after the attack. People in our neighborhood, in my classes, they knew who I was, they knew what had happened to my Dad, but they still whispered conspiracies in the halls. After Dad had died, I filed a missing persons report. When Mom, turned up in Germany, _Germany,_ her lifeless body surrounded by intricate laid plans and military grade equipment people talked about her. Maybe she orchestrated Dad’s death, maybe she left willingly, maybe she helped attack New York... she was to blame.

Nana believed me. She knew to hold me as I cried about electric blue veins running through my mother’s skin and burrowing into her eyes, she knew to find the facts in my nightmarish tales. Electric blue eyes scarred into the backs of my eyelids every time I closed my eyes, my mom’s dark figure standing over me as I fainted unconscious. No, that wasn’t mom, that was _him._

Peter was the one who decoded the informational dump after S.H.I.E.L.D blew to shit. We pieced it together, bit by bit. The man’s name was Loki. He was an alien. He disappeared, back into Space, maybe to face his crimes, maybe to be absolved of them, who knows.

New York was destroyed because of _one man._ My parents were killed as collateral for his end game.

And I wasn’t about to jump onto the board and sign over my neck to the grasping hands of Stark and the United Nations.

Queens deserves my protection, because I _decide_ to protect it, nothing more, nothing less. My parents weren't given a choice that night. Now I do everything I can to ensure all my people get a choice. 

As long as I get to control my life and my abilities, then I’ll fight like hell for my people and for those that I love.

Unknown to Peter, he had changed both of our lives by coming to Germany.

My back slid down the surface of the luggage cart. I landed harshly onto the marred earth. The face mask clenched in my fist as I hugged my legs to my chest.

Drawing one finger away at a time, the cloth fell into a heap by my feet.

The explosive heat was now to my back, warming the metal of the discarded cart behind me.

I can’t just blame Peter for _my_ decisions too. I chose to follow him here. I chose to go against Stark. I tried to keep it simple, the idea was so simple in my head. Get to Germany, grab Peter, and talk some sense into his thick skull.  

Where did it go wrong?

Peter clearly was set on his decision. He thought that following Stark, _knowingly_ ,  getting on Stark’s radar and fighting for him was the right choice. I made my opinion on it clear...and that’s really all I can do. I-I can’t risk our entire friendship, it’s not worth it if it tears us apart.

My head was down, hair sticking to the rivulets of blood on my cheeks. I tensed as I heard the scraping of footsteps approaching me. I could see red boots coming closer as I gazed through my stringy bangs.

“L-Lena?” They called hesitantly.

My head split back, making a loud crack as it hit the metal luggage cart. My hand reached out to rub at the tender spot, my eyes widening at the figure before me.

“Pete!” I choked out. He quickly crouched down to lean next to me, his hand coming up to rest against the side of my head where I slammed it into the cart. He swiftly yanked his face mask off, and left it to pile next to the dark bloody heap of fabric by my feet, though he paid it little mind.  His brown eyes darting across my face, lingering on the vivid cut on one cheek.

There wasn’t a scratch on him. I smiled.

I made to stand, but Peter just looked around dodgedly before plopping down next to me. His red clad legs stretching out on the asphalt.

He sighed, and reached up to ruffle his hair.

I don’t think he knew what to say.

I coughed, shifting my weight carefully, this is awkward.

“You know, I could just portal us back home right now.” I said.

He pursed his lips, looking out at the abandoned tarmac. It didn’t even look like there was a fight from this side. “Yeah,I know, but you wouldn’t do that, Lena.”

“And why’s that?” I asked.

He turned to me, “because you’re not sure if I’d forgive you for it or not.”

I paused mid breath. The situation we were in felt precarious, one foot on solid ground, and the other held in suspension.  

“I-You’re right.” I replied, “I don’t know what you’d do Peter, and honestly I don’t really want to know your answer either.” I loosened my hold on my legs and laid them out, Peter’s thigh pressing into mine, “Pete...why did you decide to come to Germany with Stark?” Better to get straight to the issue. We only had so much time, I needed to make sure Peter and I stayed friends, that we knew we could count on each other. 

The fingers on his right hand drummed against the back of his leg, “It felt like it was the right move to make, I-Look, I was happy back in Queens, protecting our home, but there’s so much more we could be doing, not only for New York but for the world, you know? Tony Stark showed up at my door, and you expected me to turn that opportunity down? After this I can go back home and know that I can do more, that the Avenger’s maybe know about me, and they can call on me if they need to.” He finished softly.

I didn’t respond right away. There was stilted grumbling coming from the earpiece that I didn’t try to make out.

“I get why you did it, I know how important your decision is to you, I’m just- Peter, I’m scared.” I couldn’t look him in the eyes “My parents were taken from me just because they-they had useful skills, _we_ have useful skills, and I don’t want to see you get hurt because someone has decided to use your powers to - for them to use just for themselves.”

I snuck a quick glance toward Peter. His eyes were down on his lap, the drumming fingers faltering slightly, and then picking up once more “Lena,” his gaze flitting upward, a piece of hair falling to dangle half in his eyes, “ I _chose_ to use my powers this way, and I think it was the right choice. Maybe-no, I don’t agree with Mr.Stark, not about everything, but I made a promise to help, and so that’s what I’m going to do.” He smiled softly “It means so much that you came all  this way, for me, but I guess when it came down to the _real_ reasons why we’re here, then...we’re not on the same side.”  He said sadly.

I smiled back, offhandedly reaching up to push the stray lock of hair out of his eyes, he swatted my hand away with a soft groan “ Honestly, I thought I came to Germany to haul your ass back home, but really I just came because I didn’t want you joining the big boys without me.” I laughed. “Pete, we’re not on the same side, and I’m not gonna change my mind about the Accords or anything like that, but also just know that I’m always gonna be there for you, _always.”_

“Yeah, right back at you.”

“Really? That’s all you’re gonna say? Peter,come on dude.”

“Hey!” His voice squeaks, he coughs and then says, much lower “Hey, we’re always going to be best pals, so I didn’t really see the point of elaborating so…”

I shoved his shoulder, his knee knocking into mine “Shut up, you idiot.”

“Hate to break up your...chat, but your whole ‘best friends schtick’ is kinda ruining the whole friends to enemies thing we’ve got going on over here.” Stark’s voice cut through.

Immediately, Peter and I stopped our joking. Our bodies shifting away from each other.

Peter stood, bending down to snatch up his mask, he offered mine but I shook my head resolutely “It’s covered in blood.” He made a disgusted face before dropping the dark fabric to my feet and then pulling the red over his face, his brown eyes disappearing behind black. A smile plastered on his face under the dense fabric.

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me to my feet. I bounced quickly on the tips of my toes, and shook out my arms. I shot Peter a quick smirk. The eyes on his suit squinted in a funny way, “We’re so cool” he yelled, and then Peter took a starting run and swung into the air, my disgruntled “Hey!” getting lost behind him.

Sometimes I forget he's just a kid, but I never forget that he's also a massive dork. 

I jogged ahead of the luggage cart. The exploded truck was laying charred and broken on the airfield.

The windows nearby sported jagged shards of glass and broken frames.

Peter was jumping from one spot to another, his discarded webs hanging limply from the rooftops and walls. He turned right behind a downed plane and I assumed, met up with the rest of Stark’s people.

Chatter once more filled the earpiece, shout outs of positions and sightings of Captain Roger’s team. Muffled aches and groans from already soar team members filled the empty silence in front of me.

Jogging further onto the field I caught movement up ahead.

From just around the corner came a group of people. They were running, catching up together in a pronounced V as they all made toward a large bunker space.

It was the other team!

I pumped my legs faster. I need to catch up.

They came into focus as I came closer, but they hadn’t noticed me running behind them. My legs started to burn, my hands sweating uncomfortably, so I tried to wipe them on my pants but nothing seemed to be working.

Light was glinting off the prominent shield held in front. Red, white, and blue. I tried to push myself to run faster. 

Peter all but forgotten. We had split ways still being friends and that's really all I could ask for. Now it was time to really join sides. 

Rogers' legs moved incredibly fast in precise powerful motions, he was barely touching the ground. Bucky was to his left. His metal arm swiping through the air with every stride.

The entire team seemed focused, unreachable, so set on where they were heading.

Captain Rogers shot his arm out, pointing to something up ahead and gesturing to the team behind him.

Four more figures came into view. Three men and a woman.

The woman was a streak of red, her hair flying behind her.

There was Wilson, his mechanical wings stored in his jet pack once more. The goggles still sat on his face.

Another man, his face covered in some kind of mask. He lagged behind the group a little bit, his hands kind of shooting around like he was trying to keep up.

And lastly, a man in black. Tactical gear. Although unlike Bucky’s. His was sleek, smoothly dangerous in places Bucky’s wasn’t.

I ran even faster, the wind by my face irritated the fresh cut on my cheek, but hopefully it wouldn’t start bleeding again.

I don’t think I’ve ever run this fast. I quickly glanced down to check if my shoes were tied, that would _suck_ if I face planted just about now.

I was closer now. The blobs of red, white and blue focused into a crisp uniform, and a chiseled jaw underneath it all.

I tripped, gasping as I caught sight of the man dressed in black. He came into focus surprisingly fast. I couldn't even understand what I was seeing. My knee started to ache again from landing on the hard ground. 

Strapped to the guy's back was a quiver, and held tightly in his grasp, a bow.

I can’t breath.

The archer. _Barton._ I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him. I knew it.

My hands scrambled on the rough tarmac. My nails digging into the concrete painfully. Get up, Lena. _Get up!_

I stood. My breath leaving me in heaving pants.

The group was still running, unaware that I was standing behind them.

Quickly I lunged, a snarl ready on my lips. I didn't even think about it. 

The portal ripped into the air, it’s edges tinted black. The glowing blue looking sickly in the dull sunlight.

I jumped through.

The portal appeared above Barton before any of the team could react. My legs made a soft thud against his back, and I throw my arms around his neck. Tight, tighter. The arrows in his quiver dug harshly into my gut. I couldn’t see, my hair shading my vision, but I held on even harder. I swear I could feel him breathing through my calves wrapped around his waist.

He staggered, surprised by my weight, but he shot his arm back to grab at the arrows. I pressed even closer, the quiver caught between my body and his. I can’t let him get his hands on it.  

A sob built in my chest, my arms tightening around his throat. Barton stopped trying to get the arrows and scratched at my arm, I cried out in pain as his nails dug into the flesh of my forearm. He wasn't even making a sound, no gasp or anything, this only made me even more desperate. 

I barely shifted to tighten my grip when I was thrown off of his back. I saw stars for only a second when my head split against the ground. The sun was peeking out behind a cloud.  

I gritted my teeth. Angry tears burning my eyes.

I leapt back to my feet.

The team had stopped running.

Barton stood, an arrow cocked in his bow, leveled straight at my chest.

Before him stood Captain Rogers. His arm was thrust outward, covering Barton’s chest. The shield was held loosely in his other hand, but his gaze was hard, he unflinchingly met my gaze.

I barely glanced at him, my eyes caught on the archer.

I must have taken a step forward because the Captain tightened in toward Barton, the corner of his mouth pointing downward. His eyes briefly flicked to look at something over my shoulder.

“It’s you!” I yelled, pressing a palm into my eye. Don’t you dare fucking cry, Lena. “You-you’re the _archer,”_ I spat venomously.

Barton didn’t relax his position, “you were there, you saw it happen, you _helped him_.” I cried.

I can’t concentrate. This can’t be happening now.  I swung my head around wildly. My hair messy, hanging around my face. “I-I” I was at a loss for words. I never imagined I’d come face to face with this man ever again in my life. I almost wanted to run. Forget the fight, forget Peter.

I can’t face these memories again, please just leave them for my dreams, or for my nightmares. Don’t bring them into reality.

I gasped for breath, while the others looked on.

My hand was clasped in my hair, holding it back, or ready to tear, I don’t know what I’m doing.

Then, Barton relaxed. The bow drooped, the arrow sliding out from the string.

I glanced down sharply. Keep focused on the weapon, don’t let him pull it on you. Don’t let him overpower you again.

He pushed the Captain’s arm down and away from him and took a careful step toward me.

His face looked drawn, the brows hooked together, and his eyes tried to catch mine. I didn't want to look into his eyes. Please, don't make me see that horrible blue, please.  _Mom._

I paused. This man, he did and he didn’t resemble the archer from that night. I knew it was him, but he seemed different.

He looked at me softly. The bow was held far out in front of him. Was he trying to tell me he wasn’t a threat? After I literally tried to strangle him?

I couldn’t meet his gaze. I stood, allowing my hair to shift over my eyes again, my head hanging low.

“I recognize you, I know who you are.” His voice rang out true, cautious but unwavering “I know this must be _horrible_ for you, kid. But I-I don’t know what to say- there’s no way to apologize for it, but... I’m so sorry. I didn’t-I couldn’t-” He stopped, I saw him shift back and forth through my hair.

He sounded different. His voice was filled with emotion. He sounded sad, uncomfortable, and even scared.

I steeled myself and pushed my hair back from my eyes, and prepared to meet Barton head on.

“ How can you stand there?” I said, “I-you took everything from me- my parents-” My voice cracked, “I can’t believe-” and then I met his gaze. Brown on blue. Soft blue, sky blue. I stood shocked. _Harsh lines and unforgiving blue eyes._ Barton’s eyes were _kind._

I choked on my words, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching my face.

I staggered backwards “Your eyes, I-what-” My back hit something hard, an arm came up to grasp at my shoulder but I twisted away. Bucky stood behind me. His arms outstretched, almost touching me. His gaze darting over my face, but then he put his arms down, they hung loosely at his sides, and he looked over my shoulder.

They weren't moving to subdue me. Why wasn't anyone attacking me? Bucky just continued to look at me with concern. I swung back around.

Barton was still there, but, like Bucky, he too shifted to gaze at the Captain at his right.

“Your eyes are different, they’re not electric anymore-my- my mom’s eyes turned electric blue that night, I never thought to picture your eyes- I...dreamt of them sometimes but…” I stammered.

Captain Roger’s chin tilted down, his shield coming up to prop over his chest. What was going on?

Barton seemed to deflate, his hand came up to rub across his face “Your mom didn’t choose to leave you there” He said pleadingly “That man-Loki” Barton ground out between clenched teeth “He made her do those things, and I-I didn’t have a choice, I...I’ve dreamt of your face too sometimes. I _remember_ you.”

This was too much to handle. I can't understand what he's trying to tell me. I don't want to think about Mom.

My head was pounding.

Subconsciously I should have known that Barton was mind controlled like Mom. That night his eyes were a shocking shade of blue, the same blue that enslaved Mom and took her from me.

How I didn't piece together that Barton was  _Hawkeye_  either,I had no idea.

Oh man,I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots. To think of it, all the men that night had electric blue eyes. I just wanted someone to blame. People to blame, other than Loki.

I shook my head “I know about mom, I’m- Barton, I’m so sorry I-”

I can’t string a coherent sentence together at this point, I could barely look him in the eyes.

Barton straightened out, and gave me a soft smile “Don’t, there’s nothing to apologize for.”  

To think I've spent the last years blaming this man in part for taking my parents,  _killing_ them. I'm going to be sick. 

The team behind Barton shared glances and pitying looks came my way. Wilson took a step forward, sensing the exchange was at an end, or that my mental state was slowly dissolving before their eyes “We’ve gotta get going, Cap.” and Captain Rogers snapped to attention.

Barton brought the bow back into position, his hands clenching around it and checked the quiver at his back. He shot me a cautious smile.

We can move on from this. We're both here for a reason. 

Calm down, Lena. It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s not the bad guy here.

I took a deep breath, tension rolling off my shoulders in waves.

Captain Rogers looked at me carefully, but his eyes no longer held the hardened glint they had before. He glanced over at Bucky quickly before turning to face the team.

“The quinjet is our only way out of here, we make it there and we’re good to go.”

Together as a team, they turned to look at the open hangar in the distance, a sleek black jet sat in the open space.

“We make it there together,” He said, his eyes sweeping the team before landing on me “Can we count on you?”

Eyes raked over me. My scuffed boots and disheveled hair, my puffy red eyes too.

His opinion was the most important. If I wanted on the team, this was my chance. 

The team seemed cautious, or maybe just Wilson seemed cautious. He made to step forward, but Bucky beat him to it.

His flesh arm reached up to clasp my shoulder. The warmth from his palm grounding me.

“She’s with us, Steve.” He said. I blinked up at him stupidly. I was supposed to plead my case! Bucky, what are you doing.

Was Bucky backing me to Captain America?

I stammered. “I-I” and then stopped.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow down at me, but my mouth just gaped open.

“I just attacked a member of your team!” I exclaimed.

At that Captain Rogers huffed out a brief laugh, his eyes crinkling through his helmet. “Are you sure, Buck?” He asked.

He didn't even ask why I wanted to join. Nothing, nada. 

Bucky just held on to my shoulder ever harder, “You heard what she said earlier, she’s with us. What? You didn’t think I’d cash in on your ‘back up’ offer?” He directed at me.

I could only gape in answer. “Are you sure?” I asked, glancing between Captain America and Bucky Barnes, not to mention the rest of the team of superheroes. None of them seemed to have a problem with me being there. The girl in red smiled at me, and gave a little wave. 

Captain Rogers smiled but then looked down at me, “We heard what you said, all of us, and it took real guts to say what you did. So...welcome to the team.”  and just like that, everything was forgiven.

I can't believe Steve Rogers just let me join his team..that I just attacked...and cried in front of. 

God after this shit ends, I’m gonna have to get every one of these damn heroes a cheesy card that just reads, _I’m sorry, please still be my friend_. This is ridiculous. Actually I should get one for Peter too while I’m at it.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “You’re all idiots. I’m so sorry, yes please let me be on your team, Barton sorry I monkey clung to your back, Wilson sorry I let my kid friend beat your ass and that I laughed about it, Bucky,sorry I _also_ laughed at you when you fell off that thing, and hey to everybody else, I’m Lena, sorry I’m crashing the party.” I rambled. That was definitely a word vomit.

Laughs rung out all around except for Wilson who grumbled about stupid kids and spider people.

The guy in the pointy face mask yelled out "Score! Badass new team member, this is great!" and then waved animatedly at me. He seems cool. 

Bucky leaned down to talk to me, his hand was still on my shoulder. 

Wow, his eyes are even prettier up close. "That's Scott, and that's Wanda." He said, pointing out the other two team members. 

They just beamed at me in turn.

Suddenly a voice rang out in my ear, “...Rogers and team are heading toward the quinjet, I’ve got eyes.”

I stopped, my hand shooting up to press at the earpiece, “Stark knows where we are, he’s got our position down and he’s heading this way.”

The light laughter died abruptly, everyone shifting into soldier mode. Scott muttered a confused “You’ve got Stark in your ear?” before Rogers cut him off. He gave me a curt nod. 

“Let’s move out.”

As one we began to jog, and I fell comfortably into the back, running just behind Bucky.

I really had to pump my legs to keep up with this lot. “We might have to fight our way onto the quinjet, stay close and keep your eyes open.” Captain Rogers said.

Barton hung back too, his gaze finding mine every couple paces. The more I saw of him, the more the terrifying image of his steel electric eyes was erased from my mind. Barton is the good guy, Lena. I've got to get to know this version of him.

I smiled at him. I’m on his team now.

Bucky was running further ahead, his long strides matching almost three of mine.

I exhaled sharply and then pushed to catch up with him. “Hey-” I heaved “Why are we heading toward the jet thing? Quick, fill me in.” I tried to whisper. He only shot me a somewhat annoyed glance but then spoke out “There are...dangerous people we’ve got to stop, they could be used to hurt a lot of other people.” His eyes turned hard, and he didn’t turn to face me as he spoke but kept the jet within his eyesight.

I didn’t bother to reply, but kept my pace steady. That was enough of a reason for me. Help my team get to the jet, get them on board, hope they stop the bad guys, then turn around, grab Peter and portal back home, easy peasy.

I’d be able to help where it really mattered, I can help here on the ground against Stark. I’m not sure how well I’d do against those bad guys that could take Captain America in a fight. Or guys that caused the tension in his shoulders and clenching in his jaw he had when he picked up what Bucky was saying. 

This way, Peter and I can fight for what we believe in, on this level. I can pretend that’s enough for the both of us at this point, we can think about the other stuff when we get back home.

I wonder what Nana’s doing just about now?  
I let Bucky run ahead of me, I matched pace with Barton at the back.

I barely raised my hand to shoot him a thumbs up when a jagged spark of light rained down on us.

The yellow beam cut through the sky and made a violent slash in the asphalt before the team.

Barton and I quickly caught up, while Rogers and the rest of the team had to slow their pace quickly to not hit the laser beam. A being floated above us.

The beam cut straight from a point in their forehead, and they had a flowing cape which billowed behind them.

I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the glare and was surprised to see that the person had almost purple colored skin. Their grey leotard stood out starkly against the shade of their face.

“Captain Rogers” a voice called out “ I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good you must all surrender now.”

Stark’s team assembled below the floating man. One by one they stood at the ready, facing us all head on.

Peter was the last to swing in. He landed gracefully in between the others, his face swinging around to take us in, but I know his eyes landed on me in the end.

Here we are, on opposite teams. We both knew it would come to this.

“What do we do, Cap?” Wilson asks.

I glance sharply over the people around me. I catch the eye of Wanda next to me, red shines bright in her eyes before she turns back to watch Stark’s team.

Bucky clenches and unclenches his metal hand. Whirring noises sounded softly from the arm.

Wilson looks calm, ready. Barton seems relaxed but the hold on his bow says otherwise.

Scott shifted restlessly, his pointed mask leveling toward the opposing team.

Rogers is the the perfect picture of a soldier. Arms braced, back taut, chin jutted outward.

“We fight.”

The hint of restraint in his voice the only proof of his cracking facade. This was hitting him hard. This was the moment, the one they were all trying to avoid.

There was no telling how Stark was doing under the Iron Man mask, but the steely emotionless gaze made my skin crawl.

Captain Rogers started forward into an easy jog, and we all stepped into line accordingly.

“This isn’t going to end well.” Romanoff’s voice rang out in my ear.

We sped up. Jog turning into a run.

I kept my eyes on Peter. Hopefully I’d get to him before one of these other guys did.

Run turned into a sprint.

I could feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I held the sprint easily now, my eyes dead set on the group in front of me.

We had each lined up. Chosen our mark.

Peter glanced around at his team, “They’re not stopping.” He said, his legs moving even faster to keep up.

Thirty feet separated us, twenty, ten.

The pounding of feet loud in my ears.

“Neither are we.” Stark grounds out before taking to the air.

One more burst of speed and we meet.

Metal on metal rings out as Stark’s fist meets the infamous shield.

Friend and friend trade blows beside me.

I turn, throw my shoulders back and throw my arms out, a portal springing into existence.

The webs barely miss my legs, but at the last moment Peter falls through and disappears into a halo of blue.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do you think Peter came to Germany? Why did Lena?  
> Was it right for Lena to forgive Clint so quickly? Did she forgive him?  
> Why was Steve so ready to let her join the team?
> 
> I hope to post every Friday from now on.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Peter join the big leagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super long chapter (like 7,000 words) which I'm sorry about!  
> I just couldn't find a good spot to cut it in half, and I really wanted to just get the airport battle all done in one chapter.   
> Now I can move on to the Raft for the next part. 
> 
> I hope it's an easy read and doesn't feel like it's too long.   
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

From the moment I met Peter Parker, I knew he was going to be a pain in my ass. Which was why I was only a little surprised by the situation I found myself in. 

“Peter!” I yelled. “You can’t just dodge every portal, come on, we’re fighting to the death, at least shoot webs at my face or something.” I put my arms down for a second, they started to ache from the constant strain of holding them up to make portals. 

For around the last five minutes I’ve been standing and throwing portal after portal at Peter, but every damn time he found a way to leap over or faint under them. I was getting tired of it. “Ok, maybe not to the death, but you’re kina making me look stupid in front of all the super people.” I groaned. 

I thrust my arms up, the portal bursting to life not three inches from Peter’s swinging form. He shot webs out at the last minute which yanked him violently to the right and then he flipped sideways up and over a parked cart. 

Around us the sound of fighting crescendoed and enveloped the entire airport. There were rocket explosions turning the air to smoke, and grunts and groans of fighting pairs which were jumping in and out of my eyeline. 

Peter latched onto the side of the cart into a crouched position. I jogged slowly up the the side and had to raise an arm to block out the glaring sun. I squinted my eyes trying to see Peter better. 

“Oh are we taking a break?” Peter asked, he stood and started walking sideways across the length of the cart. Showoff  “I was getting kinda bored anyway, it was fun though! We should do it again sometime!” He laughed. 

_ Pinche Pendejo. _

I grumbled, stalking even closer to the cart. 

“Peter, I swear I’m gonna come up there and punch you in the throat.” I glared, “I’m  _ so  _ done with this.” I said, stomping my foot onto the asphalt. 

Peter only laughed. He walked up the side, to the roof of the cart and threw out a quick wave in my direction and then flicked out his wrist to use his web shooter.

I planted my feet and opened a portal just as Peter’s web shot out. The stringy lines sailed right through the portal and then looped through another portal at his back, slamming with a loud  _ thwip,  _ into the back of Peter’s head. I smirked up at him. 

He shook his head, the stringy ends of the web hanging around his face, and then reached up and pulled the web slowly off his suit. It barely clung to the material. 

Peter turned and placed his arms on his hips. If I could have seen his expression under the mask I think it would’ve been pretty peeved. 

He then backed up, his heels slightly hanging off the edge of the cart before starting at a sprint and swan diving off the end. 

I shot out my arms, but Peter dodged the portal quickly, his webs yanking him in the opposite direction. And we were right back where we started. 

Again and again he jumped and looped through the blue portals. Sweat was starting to bead down my temple. Every time I threw out my arms my loose hair whipped around my face, I was taking breaks from the fighting to fish lone strands from my mouth, gross. 

Behind me the fighting was still going strong. I was almost at the point where I could stop flinching after every crazy rocket explosion. I’m pretty sure I’ve felt at least three of Barton’s arrows barely miss my face too. 

“Pete-” another flash of blue as a portal emerged in his tracks “-stop-” again he jumped out of the way “-being-” two portals this time, one in the front and one slightly off to the right “-so fucking-” he dropped straight to the ground, rolling underneath both openings “-annoying!” I screamed. 

Peter stood, still on the ground, turned and gave me a little bow. 

That little shit. 

Clenching my fists, I raked in a deep breath before creating a portal directly under his feet. He must have fallen about five inches into the swirling blue before he somehow was pulled out by a lone line of web. 

He looked back at me before giving an excited yell, he almost swung away before something  massive was sent hurtling toward him. 

I could only watch as car after car was thrown his way, swirling wisps of red encircling the vehicles. 

Peter shrieked “Those are cars, you guys!” but managed to jump and wiggle his way out of being hit by any of them.

Wanda stood not far off, her arms waving around her body, they too were covered in the magical wisps of red. She maneuvered the cars, throwing them under and over, while making sure they didn’t come down to rain death upon the both of us too. 

“Yes! So badass!” I yelled, shooting Wanda an enthusiastic thumbs up. She returned my gesture with a wily grin, the red in her eyes was sparkling. 

I let Peter dodge a couple more cars before I nodded toward Wanda. She threw two SUV’s toward his left, knowingly leaving him the only option to swing out at an angle to the right. 

Watching Peter slip through the portal was a welcomed relief, and his loud groan of defeat was one to remember.

Wanda approached me, her eyes straying to the spot where Peter disappeared into oblivion “Where did you send him?” She asked, her lips curled up at the sides in a slight smile. Wanda’s eyes had lost their red tint and shone through in a soft green. There were specks of gold lost in their depths. 

“Oh, somewhere on the other side of the airfield.” I said, pushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear and smiling her way “You don’t happen to have an extra hair tie, do you?” I asked. 

I yanked large handfuls of my hair and attempted to shove them out of my face, but I’m sure it did nothing to tame the wild waves around my face. 

“Sorry, but no.” Wanda laughed. Abruptly her eyebrows furrowed and she spun past me, flinging her arms out as she went. The red seeped back into her irises. Man she's got a fast reaction time.

Stark’s earpiece had been surprisingly quiet so far, only the sounds of groans and grunts sounded through the comms, until then. 

A  feminine voice rung out “We’re still friends  right?” came slyly from the earpiece. I couldn’t hear the reply but there was a rush of air and the sound of a dull thud onto the tarmac. 

Not far in front of us, Barton was facing off against Romanoff. His bow cocked in her direction, and she stood poised ready to deliver the next flying blow. 

I watched  as Wanda’s red wisps encased Romanoff’s foot and flung her backwards against a discarded luggage cart. The resounding clang of her impact making us all wince just a little bit. 

“You were pulling your punches.” Wanda offered toward Barton, who swiftly pushed onto his feet. 

Barton nodded in response, his gaze flickering over to Romanoff who was dazed on the ground. “Yeah, well I’m not the only one.” He said, looking pointedly at me. 

I motioned to myself, “Who? Me?”

Barton shook his head “Yeah, you. Or is your fighting style usually just ‘fling out portals and hope for the best.” He laughed. 

Scowling, I grumbled “Not all of us are super spies or whatever the hell you are, Barton.” I pointed at his bow, and he did nothing but raise his eyebrows at me, and then look pointedly at Wanda. 

She just sighed, “You two are definitely not the only ones.” Wanda left, jogging toward a different fight. I turned to watch her leave and  couldn’t make out more than the glint of metal and the vicious whirl of a black suit off in the distance. 

Barton had already jogged away by the time I lost sight of Wanda. 

I stood alone on the field. Rubble was strewn everywhere and there were scorch marks faintly smoking along the length of the tarmac.

Engines whirred above me as metal men streaked overhead, and I could vaguely make out different fights going on in the distance. 

Anyone was fair game it seemed. One guy was fighting another and then they would shift and fire a rapid blow of fire at another pair trading blows. It all was going so fast. 

Everyone was just...fighting. There were no shout outs of laid plans, no group show of force to seize the quinjet just yet. 

All that came from the earpiece were the occasional sharp exclamations between hits and explosions. I guess everyone was trying not to get personal. 

Although, it’s a bit too late for that.

I spun around, looking for Peter in the mess. I think it’d be better if I just stuck to ‘fighting’ Pete than trying to go against a literal Avenger. 

A voice crackled to life through the comm “That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all.”  Peter said, the echoed  _ thwip  _ of his webs sounding in the background. 

“Look kid, there’s a lot going on here that you don’t understand.” Captain Roger’s voice was faint through the earpiece, it barely came through but I placed my hands over my ear, trying to block out all other noise. Peter was face to face with Cap and I had no idea how that was going to end. 

I knew Peter was a strong fighter, I’d seen him go up against bigger and tougher looking guys, but this was something else, something bigger that neither of us had faced before. 

“Mr.Stark said you’d say that.” Peter replied. I heard the fling of his webs and a yell before there was a metallic clang through the earpiece. Peter huffed out a laugh “He also said to go for your legs!” He called out. 

Jesus, Parker. What I would’ve given to see Peter land Captain America on his ass. 

There was a following sound of a struggle, and a gurgled shriek from Peter. I threw my head up and looked around the air space but still had no idea where they were. 

“Did Stark tell you anything else?” Came faintly through the earpiece.

“That you’re wrong, you think you’re right, and it makes you dangerous.”  Peter said. He sounded winded, his breaths coming a bit too fast. 

I cupped my hand to my ear again trying to hear what was going on. There was a grunt and then the loud sound of metal screeching. Peter huffed out a loud breath, the creaking metal ending with a thud and then Peter started panting in quick inhales. 

“You got heart kid, where’re you from?” Captain Rogers said, his voice sounding firm through the channel.

Peter ground out a heaving “Queens.” before he let out a quick exhale. 

“Brooklyn.” 

I reached up to jostle the earpiece, it was starting to slip a bit. The black bud feeling a bit uncomfortable from being shoved in my ear for so long. 

I was trying to poke it back into my ear in a more comfortable position when my legs were kicked out from under me. 

I landed with a harsh thud on my back, I blinked up at the dark figure before me. 

Her head blocked out the harsh glare form the sun and her red hair gently framed her face. 

Natasha Romanoff smirked down at me and all I could do was stare back.

“Um-I” I stammered. 

She gave a small nod of her head, motioning for me to stand. I reared to my feet, clumsily tripping over a loose shoe lace. 

The earpiece was hanging half out of my ear, but I didn’t even care at that point. I wiped my hands on the pants of my suit, but they seemed damp with nervous sweat. “Um, wow. Hi, I’m such a big fan. You’re The Black Widow, wow hi.” I rambled, thrusting my hand out before us looking for a handshake or something, I don’t know. 

She lifted one perfect red eyebrow and didn’t make any move to shake it. 

God,  _ soy un idiota.  _

I quickly retracted the hand and reached up to try and smooth my hair. 

“You know,” She drawled out, “you could use some training, but you’ve held your own pretty well so far.”

I shifted nervously, “Y-yeah, thanks. I haven’t done much...you know...I'm saving my energy for the big guys.” 

Again she raised an eyebrow, her mouth still curled in a smirk, and her hip jutted out to the side, but there was no doubt she could obviously obliterate me with the twitch of a pinky. 

“N-Not that you’re not a big guy, I mean!” I continued “Woman not guy, big woman...Uh..I’ll fight you right now, lets go  _ puta, _ Jesus, sorry that was too far, you know what I take it back, sorry to bother you ma’am I’ll just be going back home now.” I swung around, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. I barely took two steps before my feet were knocked out from under me again.

This time I did see stars when my head collided with the rough ground. 

Natasha Romanoff leaned over me, her mouth still in that damn smirk. 

“You just knocked me on my ass again.” I said incredulously. 

“And hopefully, next time you’ll see it coming.” She replied. I mouthed ‘next time?’ in confusion before I felt the black earpiece finally slide out of my ear. It landed soundlessly near my cheek. 

Within the next second Romanoff had darted out a foot and crushed the earpiece into dust. The quick twist of her ankle and it was toast. 

“Hey!” I exclaimed. 

She did nothing but shoot me a pointed look “Go join Rogers, I’m sure we’ll see eachother again,  _ кролик _ ” 

I barely had time to blink before she was gone. I was in a daze, what just happened?

Go join Rogers? Wasn’t I already a part of Rogers’ team?

When I stood, the earpiece was nothing more than a smudge on the ground. My head was pounding and had a sensitive bump forming on the back. 

I guess Romanoff had a point. So far I’ve only actively fought Peter. I didn’t want to be in the way, I wanted to take a stand for one team without having to do anything to follow through. 

Now, I’ve gotta get in the middle of it. 

It wasn’t fair to the rest of Rogers’ team, not to Bucky and Wilson, Wanda and Scott, even Barton that I got to sit back and ‘pull my punches’ going at it with Peter. 

If I really want to take a stand then I have to take some risks. 

Stark’s broken earpiece didn’t matter now, I had to find my team. 

Bending down I tightened my shoe laces, made sure my suit was snug, and then attempted to smother my hair into submission. I was ready for anything.

Iron Man was flying above an open field up ahead, I was sure if I followed him then the rest of the heroes would appear too. 

Every step I took the sounds of battle got louder. Stark was yelling something about his suit and white vapor was being expelled from the sides. He was making jerky motions through the air above.

Wilson was swooping over the scene, his impressive wings laying shadows over the entire tarmac and right on his heels was the bulking shape of Stark’s other team member, the man with the silver suit. 

Barton was nearby, he was kneeled on an abandoned cart, firing off arrows in rapid succession. 

Signature red, white, and blue darted into my field of vision. Captain Rogers was moving at a steady jog, and Bucky wasn’t far behind him. They moved with concentrated grace, and stopped when reaching an abandoned plane. They took shelter from the fight, and spoke intensely from across their hiding spaces, one behind the front landing gear and the other by the opened stairway. Bucky kept rearing up to check their surroundings every couple of seconds.

I pumped my legs harder trying to catch them. 

My feet skidded across the pavement as I slid right in next to  Captain Rogers, my shoulder crashing against his. 

He flashed a surprised glance my way before righting himself and placing a hand on my shoulder so I could catch my balance, and their conversation stopped abruptly. 

Both he and Bucky flicked their eyes over me, and both got caught on the rough cut on my cheek. The blood had begun to coagulate but I’m sure it was still an ugly sight. 

Self consciously I reached up to prod at the injury, and winced when my fingertips made contact with the inflamed edges. 

I shook my head and let the waves of my hair slide over the wound, not wanting them to see it anylonger. 

I flinched back as a hand reached up by my face. It drew back cautiously but then started toward my cheek again and I gazed up at Captain Rogers as he cupped my cheek in his palm. 

With all the tenderness in the world he moved the hair out of my face, and tucked it gently behind my ear. The scrape of his gloves barely sliding against the side of my jaw. 

His hand moved to tip my chin, his blue eyes searching my face. 

Eyes blue as Forget-me-nots. They shone out in the darker fabric of his helmet, and darted from my eyes to the red cut and back again. 

He cleared his throat, but didn’t move his hand, “It doesn’t look that bad, I don’t think it’ll scar.” 

My lips parted in a surprised ‘oh’, and I could practically feel my cheeks turning pink “T-thank you, Captain, I-”

“Steve.”

I smiled and snuck a glance out of the corner of my eye toward Bucky. 

He stood not far off and watched us both with a knowing gleam in his eye. It was hard to make out, but his stormy gaze didn’t stray from Steve and I.

“Thank you...Steve.” I murmured, a loud explosion sounded overhead causing Steve’s head to swivel, and move his hand from my chin. 

I stepped back, biting the inside of my cheek. 

Man, what is it with those damn super soldiers and their blue eyes.  

“Um, would either of you have an extra earpiece thing? I guess I missed that part during team initiation.” I joked. Let's forget whatever just happened. Maybe I dreamt it?

Steve started patting down his suit, the giant shield flopping with the movements of his arms, “..I thought I had an extra…” he muttered. 

He puttered about for the next couple seconds before giving a little ‘aha’ and pulling the small black bead from a hidden pocket somewhere.

“It was in my utility belt.” He said sheepishly. 

“Your utility belt? What are you? 80?” I laughed, plucking the earpiece from his hand. 

Steve shot back a sly grin but before he could reply Bucky piped in “More like 95, doll.” 

My mouth popped open in surprise and I scuffed my feet on the ground awkwardly as I slid the comm into my ear. 

The second it was in, Bucky’s demeanor changed. He might have been slyly smirking before but his face lost all of the tender charm it held for the moment, “Steve, we gotta go, that guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

Steve’s mouth set into a hard line, and the shift to soldier mode was almost jarring. 

They had to go find the bad guys. It was horrible to say but I nearly forgot there was a bigger fight under all the team Stark vs team Cap. 

“We gotta draw out the flyers, I’ll get Vision, you get the jet.” He directed toward Bucky who nodded quickly. 

The sounds of engines whirring above us was getting louder and louder. 

“No.” A voice rung out through the comm “You get to the jet, both of you.” Wilson said, flying over our heads all the while being chased by small projectiles “The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look. 

Bucky shot his gaze over to me as I stood worrying my lip. 

They were the two sure fire ways to win the fight, I knew that. The rest of the team knew that too. 

Barton piped in, the sound of gunfire echoing in my ear, “As much as I hate to admit it, if we’re going to win this one, some of us might have to lose it.” 

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve.” Wilson exclaimed. 

He was right, this isn’t the real fight. Battling it out over the Accords was important yeah, but there was more going on. 

I nodded in agreement, this was important. The mission was to make sure both Steve and Bucky got to the jet, then they could stop the shit that was going to happen. Getting them there without Stark butting in was the real issue. 

But...there was something I could do, “I can get us out, I could make a portal big enough for the whole team, if we can just get Steve and Bucky to the jet then I can portal us back to New York, or at least somewhere safe.” I said resolutely. 

Both Steve and Bucky shot me surprised glances, but the teammates were the ones who responded. 

“Kid, we came into this knowing there were risks.” Wilson said, “The important thing is that we  _ chose  _ to follow Cap, to help him take down the real bad guys, all the while knowing things could go to hell in the process.”

“Ross and the U.N have some sort of idea who’s against the Accords and who isn’t...if you or your friend are caught in the crossfire here there’s no going back” Barton said softly.

“He’s right Lena, we know what we are walking into, there’s still time to turn back.” Wanda’s voice came through the comm. 

I shook my head, “I-No, I can’t just abandon you all. Please, let me just do this. We can make it out, I know we can.” I said, holding Steve and Bucky in my sights, knowing they ultimately had the final say. 

I heard complaints start to build up in my ear but cut them off before they could go on any further, “Look, going against the Accords means being able to  _ choose  _ where I fight and who I fight for, isn’t it? This is me choosing. Like Wilson said, the real fight is out there, and our main goal is getting Steve and Bucky through to fight it. I knew there was no going back when I stepped into that portal and ended up here in Germany, and I’m sure as hell not going to walk away now.” There was silence from the other side. “I’ll do all I can to get us all to safety, us  _ and  _ my spider friend,” I said sharply “...and in the end if it doesn’t work out... or something happens, well then we’ll go down fighting together. Does the word team not mean anything to you guys?” 

Steve looked down at me and nodded gravely “Lena’s right, if there’s a chance you can all get out safe, then you should take it.” 

I didn’t miss the focus on ‘you’ rather than ‘we’. By the look on Bucky’s face, neither did he. 

Steve didn’t pause for a moment, “Alright, Sam, what’s the play?”

“We need a diversion something big.” Wilson -  _ Sam  _ \- replied. He was still flying loops over our heads, and seemed not to be in any hurry to switch it up.

“I got something...kinda big, but I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half..don’t come back for me.” Scott said confidently. He had yet to pipe in on the whole ‘leave us behind’ thing, so there’s no guess how he fits into it all. He could be used to the whole 'maybe I'l go to prison, maybe I won't' mentality, but I knew I felt the uncertainty sear itself into my bones. No use in worrying about it now. 

Sparing a glance around to see if anyone else was as confused as I was, Bucky squinted in my direction. Actually, every time I've met him he's had a confused expression on his face, but that could be common in 100 year old war vets. “He’s gonna tear himself in half?”

“Dude, I have no idea what’s happening.” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Steve seemed more cautious than confused “You’re sure about this, Scott?”

Scott made a ‘psh yeah’ sound before calling out “I do it all the time. I mean once, in a lab. Then I passed out.” 

I snorted, great, this is what we’re going to rely on?

I elbowed Steve in the side to get his attention, “Hey  _ jefe,  _ I’m gonna do some damage up top, hopefully that’ll cause a distraction too...which doesn’t result in bodily harm.” I laughed. 

I shot a little wave at Bucky, and gave Steve a pat on the shoulder “Don’t you guys worry about me, I can handle myself. Go kick some ass.” I turned back around and sighted Sam flying above, being closely tailed by the other flying ‘Ironman’ like suit, tracking them across the sky I conjured the portal quickly to my right and jumped through before they both got out of range, the sound of Scott chanting “I’m the boss, I’m the boss.” following me through. 

The blue portal swirled to life at the exact right moment, I fell and spread my arms out wide, landing with a jarring thud against the metal back of the silver suit. Sam gave a surprised yelp when he looked back and saw me hanging on koala style to the guy with all the machine guns. 

I may have also taken a peek down to see Steve and Bucky gaping up at me. 

Wrenching my arms around the bulking metal shoulders I simply started yanking at stuff. 

I couldn’t get much loose but it sure was freaking out the guy in the suit. 

He started zigging across the sky trying to shake me off, but I held on. 

“Who are you??” He yelled.

The wind and the powerful thrusters on his feet were loud, drowning out most of the noise below. “I’m Lena!” I screamed, my hair whipping around me, I was practically eating it. “What’s your name?”

He stopped short and gave only one answer “War Machine” and then floated for a second before restarting his thrusters again, the motion causing me to slip down as he shot straight up into the air, going into a twisted half loop movement. 

I'm pretty sure my screaming could be heard over the engines, why did I think this was a good idea?

It was kinda working, I could see that the guy under me was no longer following Sam, but had split off to focus on me. 

Just as I was working on dismantling the rocket launcher on his back, something massive shot up in front of us.

Grabbing War Machine in mid air and towering over the airfield was Scott. 

“What the fuck, Scott!” I screamed in panic. One of his eyes was the size of my body. He let out a low crazy laugh and swung us around to face him. The only reason I stayed on the guys back was because of my muscles seizing up in shock. 

The guy under me wasn’t okay either, “Okay, tiny dude is big now. He’s big now.” He chanted.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve’s voice rang out in my ear. 

“Way to go Tic-Tac!” Screamed Sam. 

The giant form of Scott was moving slowly, his arms waving through the air but his eyes were still locked on War Machine still held in his hand. 

Oh no. “Wait-Scott,” I stammered as he began to rear his arm back, causing me and War Machine to move through the air. Scott moved his arm back before throwing it forward, and us with it. I shrieked as we sailed through the air. Trying to see clearly through the spinning I loosened my hold on the guys back and fell straight down. 

The weightless feeling made my stomach churn. I slipped through a portal and braced for the impact. I tried to land as softly as possible but in the rush I still fell around ten feet, and my ankle felt the most of it. 

Above me, War Machine seemed to have made it through, and hanging off his armor was Peter. 

They flew together toward Scott. Peter being dragged smoothly behind him. 

The higher they went, the more I could only make out a red and grey blob of motion.

I had to run and dodge behind an abandoned truck as fires surged over the asphalt. Debris was flying everywhere and the heat was rising. 

Scott tore off the wing of a downed plane, and kicked loading boxes onto the small figures running beneath him. I winced as the damages continued to grow. Stark better pay for all this shit. 

Peter was flown higher and higher and finally swung around, landing a blow to Scott’s face. 

Off in the distance, Steve and Bucky could be seen going at a dead sprint toward what I presumed to be the quinjet. 

Again a fire lit the space, a truck bursting into flames under Scott’s foot. 

“Scott! Watch it man!” I screamed up at him, but I doubt that he heard me.

Barton was off fighting to the right, trading blows with the unknown black suited figure on Stark’s team. 

I didn’t see how I could help in this situation. 

While War Machine rained down bullets on Scott, Peter was off crawling over and swinging under his giant figure.

Wanda then appeared, her red magic being used to throw cars and carts War Machine’s way. Anything to get him occupied with something else. 

I jogged, making my way to Wanda. As soon as I arrived she shot me a grateful smile. Her eyebrows scrunched in concentration. I made portal after portal, trying to deflect stray rockets and bullets from War Machine and redirect the cars that missed their mark. 

We worked together like a well oiled machine. 

“We’ve got incoming.” Sam shouted over the comms. “It looks like local authorities caught sight of Jumbo over here and are on their way, no knowing how soon Ross gets down here too.”

I didn’t know who Ross was, but by the look on Wanda’s face he wasn’t someone I wanted to meet. 

It was hard to say but it seemed like the intensity seemed to ramp up even further after that. We were truly on a timeline now. 

Wanda and I continued to work against War Machine but our attention was divided as Scott shrieked “Something just flew in me!” and Wanda’s head turned toward the shout at once. 

There was a confused shuffle, and then we could make out the floating form of the man with a cape heading straight toward Steve and Bucky off in the distance. 

Wanda faltered, her gaze splitting between here and there, “Go” I urged her, “I got this.”

She gave me a tight nod before lowering her arms and running toward the floating figure, red wisps disappearing with her. 

It wasn’t long before War Machine gave me the slip too. It was hard to deflect gun fire and fling cars at your opponent at the same time.

I leaned down to catch my breath. My elbows perched on my knees as I gasped for a couple of seconds before straightening out once more and gazing around the battlefield. 

Scott was still stomping around, every step making the ground shake.

I shut my eyes as Peter was seen running across the back of a plane as Scott’s arm swept right behind him. Peter made it out just in time, and swung up into the air, looping around Scott’s torso and legs. 

As War Machine and Iron Man both joined him, Peter began circling. His webs shooting out rapidly to cover Scott’s legs after every turn. 

Scott began to stumble, his legs being held taut by the webbing. 

“My god, he’s doing  _ Empire Strikes Back,”  _ I shouted excitedly, “Scott’s the AT-AT, guys oh my god this is awesome. Way to go Pete!” I said. But of course no one responded. 

As Scott began to tip backwards, I could tell Peter was whooping, just as he swung around one last time, Scott’s arm shot out, snapping the web and throwing Peter through the air. 

“Peter!” I screamed in horror. 

His body flew limply before crashing through a bunch of crates and laying motionless on the ground. 

I didn’t even register I had moved before I was perched at his side. The blue from the portal behind me casting a dull shadow down on both of us. 

I couldn’t force myself to touch him. Peter’s arm laid flopped out to the side. “Pete, come on, please be okay.” I cried reaching for his mask.

Just before I could move it over his face, Stark landed with a thud beside me. The resounding clink of his armor putting my teeth on edge. 

I tensed as he came closer, and startled as Peter jumped to life in front of me. 

He struggled as he pulled the mask over his face and gulped in  a big breath. 

I hadn’t noticed, but Stark bent down to kneel next to me “Kid, you alright?”

“I-What, oh, hey man...Lena!” He shouted when his eyes met mine. 

I smiled a tight lipped smile “Hey there Pete.”

He just tossed his head back, closing his eyes “Wow, that was scary.”

“Yeah, you’re done.” I said pointedly, “Tell him, Stark.” I motioned to to him.

“Stay down.” Stark said firmly, “ You’re going home or I’m calling Aunt May, You’re done!”

Peter’s face crumpled and he moved to try and get back up, but I put a hand flat on his chest to hold him down. 

“ Wait- Mr.Stark, I’m not done, I’m not-” He stammered. 

Peter quieted down as I glared at him. 

He glared right back. “You’re not gonna tell Lena to go home?” He questioned. 

Stark looked at me quickly, the bruise on his eye was a dark sickly looking purple, but then he turned back to Peter, “Yeah, well she’s an adult, she can make her own decisions, but you’re a kid and I’m the field trip advisor so I make the rules.” 

With that he stood, his thrusters revving as he took off into the air. 

I tapped Peter on the chest, “Peter, stay down. Nope, don’t even try to argue. I’m going back out to see this thing finished and then we’re  _ both  _ going back home.” I argued, really trying to make sure I got my point across. 

Peter let out a loud groan before tossing his head back down onto the asphalt, and throwing an arm dramatically over his face. 

I stood, and cuffed the edge of his foot with my boot. He kicked back at me lazily. 

“You did pretty good out there, Pete.” I said. The fact that Peter was laying unharmed at my feet lifted a massive weight from my off shoulders. 

He humphed in agreement, but then suddenly jumped to life “Did you see when I jumped over that giant airplane? And when I dodged all those rockets? AND when I literally beat up a guy with a  _ metal arm _ , Lena this was the best day of my life.” Peter gushed. 

I rolled my eyes but laughed along with Peter’s excitement, “Yeah you were definitely badass, not as badass as me, but you got pretty close.”

Peter made to argue back but suddenly there was a rumble off the distance. The sound grew louder and louder before a massive black jet soared over our heads. My hair thrown back in my face from the sudden wind. 

I punched Peter in the arm and yelled excitedly “They made it!! Pete, Steve and Bucky did it!” 

I whooped after the jet, and Peter clambered to his feet, his hand scratching under his chin before he reached up and yanked his red mask back in place.

“Steve and Bucky, what-,” Peter started in a confused tone, before his eyes widened comically and he let out an irritated groan “Does that me we lost? UGh, this sucks.” 

I shoved his shoulder hard enough for him to stumble, but then I darted out my hand and grasped him by the elbow “Come on! We’ve gotta go find the others and get out of here before the press shows up, quick we don’t have much ti--oh no.”

My face paled as I caught the flash of not only Iron Man but War Machine following closely behind the quinjet, and they were gaining on it fast. 

I tugged on Peter harder, urging him to start jogging in the direction the jet had gone. 

Making sure the earpiece was still in position I tapped it once, “Guys, we got Stark and War Machine tailing the quinjet.” I spoke urgently.

“I’m on it.” came the reply just as Sam zoomed through the air, his wings a bright streak of red in the sky. 

He was gaining speed quickly. Peter and I started to run, trying to stay beneath Sam’s shadow. 

I had no idea where Scott, Wanda, or Barton were but there was no time to stop and look.

“Come on, Sam.” I murmured, my eyes not leaving the procession in the sky. 

Sam had started firing off small explosives, but none seemed to stop the two iron suits in front of him. 

In the blink of an eye a golden shaft of light shot onto the scene. Sam ducked out of the way in the last moment but it went on to hit War Machine square in the chest. My breath got caught in 

my throat as I stumbled to a stop. All at once the suit started to fall. The grey figure started plummeting toward the earth, with no sign of stopping. 

I grasped Peter’s hand in mine tightly. “Oh my god.” 

Iron Man turned back, trying desperately to reach the figure before he hit the ground, but he was already falling too fast, Stark wasn’t going to make it. 

Sam was also doubling back, his wings pointed in a clear V as he tried to reach War Machine in time. 

We both gasped as the dull thud of impact reached our ears. A cloud of dust rose into the air far off in the distance.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene. Urgently I held Peter’s hand, “S-stay here Pete, they may need some help, I should-” Could anybody survive a fall from that height? 

“Lena, wait-” Peter’s hand grabbed open air as I stumbled into the portal, closing it quickly before he could follow. 

War Machine had made a grisly hole in the soft earth, the edges of the dirt smoking slightly. 

His face mask had been torn clean off and his face looked serene, asleep even. 

Stark knelt over the body in stoic silence. 

I felt like an intruder. The scene was quiet, but the air surrounding it felt charged and explosive. 

Sam landed with a soft whirr, his wings retracting into his back “I’m sorry.” He offered to Stark.

Without so much as a glance, Stark raised his left fist and shot Sam, the impact driving him back onto his stomach. Sam laid unmoving in the dirt, the echoed whine of Stark’s repulsor dying down. 

I must have gasped, or taken a step forward for Stark’s gaze snapped to mine. His expression was livid, a muscle jumping in his cheek as he looked at me. 

Taking a step back, I held out my hand in between us “Stark, I-” I stuttered, unsure what to say, and unsure what he was going to do next. 

“You could have saved him.” Stark growled, “You could have made a portal, caught him before he hit the ground.”

He eyes burnt into me.

“No I-I couldn’t have, he was falling too far, and too fast, I-I, It wouldn’t have helped” I pleaded.

I don’t think he wanted to hear reason. His eyes raked over me from head to foot before he raised his arm again, and I heard the whine of a repulsor starting up.

“Wait-Stark, Please. He would’ve hit the ground just as hard!” I tried yelling, but was suddenly blinded by the bright shot of energy heading toward me.

I choked on my breath and hit the dirt hard. The sharp  _crack_ of my shoulder being ripped from its socket sent a shock through my body.

My shoulder screamed in pain, and my eyesight started blacking out in the corners. I clawed my fingers beneath me, my right arm and shoulder pulsing in bright red bursts of pain. 

Gasping out, I could barely make out the anxious shouts in my ear. 

Barton and Wanda’s voices ringing out hazily through the agony. 

I felt dizzy, my ears ringing. 

“...surrender! Hands behind your head, get on your knees!”

Shots were ringing out. 

“Lena!”

“Get out of here!”

“...They’re coming.”

Panic began to bubble in my chest, tears pricking at my eyes. 

I couldn’t move my arm without gasping out in pain. Black splotches rearing up in my eyes after I so much as shifted weight. 

I don’t know how to make a portal without me hands. Oh my god, I can’t make a portal without my hands. It was too late anyway.

Tears started to blur my eyesight even more. 

Small panicked sobs were leaving my mouth. I turned my head to the side, the blurry red figure of Stark sat in the same place as before. 

He hadn’t even bothered to look back. 

“Get Peter out of here.” I slurred, just as shadowed figures moved in and blackened out the sun above me. 

I cried out as they pulled me from the dirt and placed me in chains. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> Pinche Pendejo: Fucking idiot  
> soy un idiota: I'm an idiot  
> puta: bitch  
> jefe: boss
> 
> Russian:  
> кролик: bunny
> 
>  
> 
> What did you think about that?  
> What do you think Peter's reaction would be if/when he finds out Lena went to the Raft?  
> What do you want to see from Lena when she gets to the Raft?
> 
> I really want to develop her relationship with Clint :)
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	7. All Aboard!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team boards The Raft.  
> Lena meets Secretary Ross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The highlight of my spring break has been writing this bad boy lmao.  
> Lena will go through some shit while at the Raft, but she'll get through it.  
> Ross is an asshat.  
> Also I love Clint a lot.  
> I wrote what I thought team Cap went through when they got to the Raft, I hope it lives up to what you all imagined too.
> 
> Lead on brave readers!!  
> \- Emma

By the second hour in the air I stopped trying to keep track of the twists and turns in our flight path.

There was no way to measure the speed we were traveling, nonetheless how much land we’d already covered.

It was windy outside, that I could tell.

The plane would give sudden lurches and drifts to the sides that left my stomach churning.

My head was hanging almost limp, and my eyes were clenched tightly shut. 

Trying to move with the dips and sways of the aircraft wasn't working so I simply closed my eyes, the better to try and concentrate on pushing the pain away.

My eyes had been closed for such a long time I was seeing rolling hills of black behind my eyelids.

They had bound my arms behind my back. Steel rods separated the cuffs, and a rope was laced around that attached to the back of my seat. I could barely move an inch.

For the first half hour my right shoulder had been ablaze in pain. I think my eyes had stopped watering after the first hour in. Now, the arm felt numb in its agony. The shoulder seemed to be pulsing in time with my heartbeat and kept sending me waves of pain if I even so much as shifted in my seat.

When are you supposed to reset dislocated shoulders before there’s permanent damage?

It doesn’t seem they’d be willing to help out anyway.

I don’t remember getting on the plane. One moment I was flat on my back writhing in pain, and the next I was cuffed and headed to super prison.

Nana’s gonna kill me.

The plane gave another massive lurch, and my stomach churned. I attempted to double over to try and relieve the uncomfortable sensation, but gasped out as my shoulder was tugged by the movement of my arms behind me.

My head drooped in defeat. God, how much further are we going? Hours and hours on a wobbly plane ride was not doing me any good. 

I could feel tingling numbness creeping down my shoulder and into my forearm, which probably was a bad sign.

A headache was starting to form behind my eyes too. How great.

With a big sigh, I laid my head on Wanda’s shoulder. She was restrained on the seat to my right, and with every turbulent jerk of the plane her body would bump into mine.  I didn't even care when it shot a lightning rod of pain up my shoulder.

My groan was hidden in her hair.

She softly laid her head down on top of mine, the most comfort she could offer given the circumstances.

Our legs were left untied, and Wanda kept hers folded near to the chair. Come to think of it, she hadn't moved much throughout the journey, if only to touch her head to mine or let out light exhales. 

I stretched my legs out into the aisle.

My shoelaces had become untied, and the bottoms of my boots were caked in mud. I brought them down hard on the aircraft floor smirking at the lumps of mud flaking off onto the runway.

Hair had begun to slip down over my eyes but I could still make out Sam and Scott sitting cuffed in front of me.

Sam raised his eyebrows at the clumps of mud left toward his feet, but Scott started slamming both his feet up and down, giant flakes of mud smearing into the floor from his shoes as well. 

The guard positioned by the entrance racked his baton hard against the side of Scott's seat, the jarring sound making him pause mid foot stomp. Scott sighed loudly, wiped his feet one more time and then looked off to the side to grumble in disappointment. 

A black shoe reached out from my left and nudged my soiled boot.

Barton was almost lounged back in his seat, the steel bands on his arms were apparently no big deal, or maybe he was just used to being in them. His black tactical uniform was still on, and molded into the black lines of the airplane, which made his blue eyes stand out all the more. 

“How’s your shoulder” He whispered, his eyes straying to the two guards nearby. 

One stood near the entrance to the cockpit, the other near the unloading dock at the back of the aircraft. Both didn’t seem to be paying any attention.

I half shrugged my one good shoulder, hissing as it moved the other “It would feel a fuck ton better if these _pendejos_ took the cuffs off and popped the bone back into the right socket or whatever.”

Barton huffed, “Yeah, well as long as we get it fixed up in the next, say six hours, then you probably won’t need surgery.”

I choked “ _Surgery?!”_

He laughed, his thigh pressing into mine, “I’ve had a couple dislocated shoulders and they’re a bitch, had the surgery too which sucks even more” His eyes crinkle when he smiles “My daughter, Lila, fell off her bike and I swear I could hear the distinct pop when her bone shot out of the socket.” He met my surprised gaze briefly before flicking away, biting at the inside of his cheek quickly.

“You have a daughter?” I asked quietly.

His cheek jumped, “Lila, and my son, Cooper. They-” He paused, “They’re safe, with their mom...my wife.”

I think my eyebrows just about jumped off my forehead.

Barton has a wife and kids?

“W-why are you telling me this?” I stuttered.

His mouth turned down at the corner “Lena,  do you realise how much you’ve risked in the past 12 hours?” I only shook my head in bewilderment, “You were going to portal us all back to your apartment, risk having been seen with wanted fugitives, _and_ brand yourself as a sure opponent to Stark.” He listed off. 

“Well-I-” But cut off, not having anything to respond to that. He was right, I  _had_ done all those things. And in hindsight I didn't really think many of them through, but you know what they say, 'fake it 'til you make it'

He only shot me a quick look, “You barely know any of us, not to mention the past the both of us share.” Barton looked away a frown pulling at his lips. 

“No, it wasn’t you, that doesn’t have shit to do with any of it.” I grimaced. “Look, I wanted to help you guys, I want to be on this team because you’re fighting a fight I want to fight. How many times do I have to fucking say this, Jesus” I groaned, tossing my head back against the wall “I chose to be here, I chose to fight with you guys, and now I choose all of you guys to be my new friends and you all get no choice in the matter.” I finished, stomping my boot on the ground.

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” Sam piped in from across the way. All of them had been so quiet, I almost forget they were sitting in here with us.

“Fuck off, Wilson.” I snarled.

Then I turned back around, “So, _Clint,-_ yeah I know your real name Hawkeye, bird man, whatever...I was just too stupid to connect the dots before - I’m right where I wanna be... on the way to prison to ultimately rot in a cell with all you losers for the rest of my life.”

I darted my eyes around the space, all of them sporting smirks, to smiles, to confused squints.

Clint just knocked his knee into mine, a hiss leaving my teeth as I was reminded of the pulsing shoulder attached to me, “I trust you kid, and I hope...maybe it can go both ways someday.” He smiled sheepishly.

I knew things weren’t totally fine between me and Clint. It would take time, like all things do. The electric blue eyed monster I’d seen that night was slowly being erased, and in its place soft blue crinkly eyed Barton appeared.

All of them, Wilson, Scott, Wanda, and Clint were in this with me, and the bonds of friendship were already taking hold, and I knew once those formed nothing could rip that shit apart.

I shot a big smile around the space, almost, _almost,_ forgetting where we were for a second.

The crash of a baton against metal made me jump, my shoulder bumping against Wanda’s harshly and making me see black spots for a second.

My head was swimming, and I heard shouts call out as my body sagged forward before being restrained by the steel bands securing me in place.

As I had sagged forward my shoulder stretched out behind me and the burst of agony was unreal. I thought I could feel the grating scratch of bone on bone as my arm started moving.

I yelled out, clenching my eyes and breaking through the side of my cheek, blood coating my tongue and making the faded nausea rear its head.

“Quiet!” Shouted one of the guards, again pounding his baton against the side of a metal chair, the sound echoing in my ears and making my temples ache.

This is ridiculous. “Well maybe if you’d fix my fucking arm I’d be a bit more quiet, asshole!” I spat.

Clint jerked his knee against mine in warning.

The guard that yelled turned in my direction, the baton hitting against his palm.

“Hey there big guy, don’t get too trigger happy.” Sam cautioned, his eyes sharply following the movements of not one, but both of the guards.

Scott sat up straight, “Yeah, Jerk! We could take you down in a second, flat.”

This really isn’t the time for that, Scott.

Wanda just sighed next to me, her eyes flicking over the scene in little interest, I nudged her shoulder with my head “Can’t you like magic us out of here or something?” I whispered, my eyes split between the approaching guard and Wanda next to me. Scott was still yelling out funny insults and jabs that I’m sure were just making everything much worse.

Wanda looked at me out of the corner of her eye, “Only if you want to end up stranded in the middle of the ocean.”

My mouth popped open in surprise, “Prison….or death by drowning, ugh I hate making decisions.” I pouted, “Clint, what do you think?” I turned toward him.

The guard nearby was much closer than I thought, he had paused to shout more words at Scott like “Quiet prisoner!” and “Shut up!”

Clint paused and pretended to think about it, “well as long as we’re all together…”

I rolled my eyes. This is pointless.

“Yeah, prison it is” I muttered.

Scott was clearly running out of stupid insults and his face was turning kind of red but the guard hadn’t stopped slapping the baton against his open palm.

Their face barely showed through the dull helmut they wore but I could tell they were getting upset due to the growing snarl on their lips.

It was time to step in, “ _Oye,_ jerk face!” I yelled, catching both of the guards attention and succeeding in drawing one away from Scott, “Are we almost there yet? My ass is going numb.”

“You really got ‘em riled up this time” Sam piped in, looking between the guard and me.

The guard started stalking down the aisle toward Clint and I, the baton still swinging into his palm. He stopped not two feet away and then glanced down at us in annoyance. Reaching over, he switched a flip on the baton and sparks started to fly out the end. It sizzled and cracked, lighting up the darkened space.

“What is that?? A fucking cattle prod??” I gasped in mock outrage. “Give me all you got.”

“Stop talking, Lena.” Wanda said, although she didn’t seem too worried with the electric stick held in front of her face.

The guard advanced closer, the sparks flying dangerously off the baton, the corner of their mouth turning up in a wicked grin.

They got one more foot forward before Clint shot his leg out, tripping the guard who then was sent sprawling at our feet. The baton twisted out of his grip before flying forward and slamming into the thigh of the other guard stationed by the door.

A gurgled yell was heard as that guard fell to one knee, his thigh twitching from the electrical shock.

“Wow, that was something.” Scott said, his body leaning against the arm braces to get a better sight of the moaning guards on the floor.

I shot Clint an amused glance, and he just shrugged, making an innocent face and whistled looking around the cabin aimlessly.

My chuckle was drowned out by the sudden sound of an alarm. What little light in the aircraft bay was shut off and replaced with the shadowed hue of blinking red. The guards on the floor immediately heaved themselves up and took their stations near the entrances, not even moving to retaliate for the tripping and zapping that had just happened.

We all looked around confusedly at each other, and felt the shift as the airplane halted its movements before a weightlessness was felt as it started descending.

Wanda straightened, then tipped her head back against the cold wall behind her, eyes closing briefly “We’re here.”

The aircraft gave a big lurch and then settled. The creak of metal made me wince.

The door shot open, armed guards rushed in and crowded the open space we were restrained within.

These guards didn’t spare us a glance but mechanically bent to remove our bindings from the chair backs, the steel rod still in place to prohibit any movement.

The alarm had yet to stop, and there was a damp breeze coming through the open door way. It smelled like metallic rust, and faintly an ocean breeze. The rush of fresh air made me lightheaded.

Scott was yanked to his feet, a guard holding the cuffs firmly as they marched forward and out the door.

Next was Sam, then Wanda.

Another guard approached me. This guard didn't wear a helmet. He had an angular face which might have looked pleasing if not for the ragged edge of a scar that caught above his jawline. His hair was cropped short to his head, overall giving him a menacing look about him.  He sneered down at me and pulled the steel rod harshly from my chair.

My shoulder positively _ached,_ panting for breath I struggled to my feet. My vision going blurry for a second as I stood.

I tried to focus on my feet, the less amount of attention I payed to my shoulder the better.

The guard was an oppressive force behind me as they urged me forward, my feet shuffling out before me.

Pain was dancing up my arm with every single step. In and out I continued to focus on my breathing. Keep calm Lena, don’t think, just walk.

It was getting easier to concentrate less on the shoulder and more on our surroundings.

Once I was marched out the door I was astounded by the open hangar we arrived in.

Water was dripping from open slats in the ceiling, and there were numerous guards stationed in every direction.

Heavy weaponry was aimed at our solemn procession.

I twisted my head around, trying to see the space better. There were doorways leading off into dark corridors, but I couldn’t get a good look at what was inside. The guard behind me cuffed me on the back of the head, urging my gaze forward. 

I switched from focusing on my feet to the graceful shuffle of Wanda walking in front of me. Her guard held the steel band tight in one hand while the other was locked down on the back of her neck. Even from here I could see the clenching and unclenching of Wanda's hands, the stark red of half moon nail crescents showed on her open palms. 

The line of us finally entered a secluded hallway, the sounds of alarms and falling water fading in the background.

One by one we marched on, our shoes making funny squeaking noises on the damp ground. Up ahead Scott was shooting his head back and forth, trying to get a look through every hallway and window. His guard didn't seem to have a problem with it, there was no cuffing of the back of the head, nothing. 

Suddenly as we rounded a corner, Scott was shoved through a dark doorway, and disappeared inside followed by his guard.

In the blink of an eye, Sam was gone too.

I followed dutifully behind Wanda, but not another second passed before I saw her hair whip around a corner and then she too disappeared from sight.

This was wrong, something was wrong. They surely couldn’t separate us, right? We’re high profile prisoners we should be kept together.

Panic began to creep into my chest, and I started breathing harder. The idea of facing the unknown _alone_ wasn’t something I’d thought about.

I actually thought they’d let us stay together.

Whipping around anxiously I met Clint’s eyes.

He looked tensed, his eyes darting around the hallway before flitting over to mine.

His eyes softened, and he mimed taking in a deep breath and then exhaling calmly.

I attempted to slow my breathing but the guard behind me shoved me hard between my shoulder blades and I stumbled over my untied shoelaces. Snarling behind me I attempted to twist around again, not wanting to lose sight of Clint either.

A doorway was coming up on my right. A darkened hole leading to God knows where. My breathing picked up again and I really began to struggle with the guard behind me.

His rough hands kept me still, one holding on firmly to the steel bar laced between my hands and the other hot against my upper back. The feeling made me squirm.

“Clint!” I yelled, attempting to stop my feet. I don’t want to go in there alone with this guard. The looming darkness was closing in around me. Where were the others? Would I ever see them again? Lena what did you get yourself into.

“Deep breath! I’ll find you, kid!” Clint shouted as he was paraded past the open door before it swung shut with a clanging _boom._

The lights turned on after a couple seconds. One after the other flickering to life.

I stood with my back to the room, trying to face the doorway we had come through. The guard stood between me and the door, one arm hung loosely at his side, the other perched tensely on the electric baton on his belt.

My shoulder ached with every staggering breath I tried to pull in.

Calm down. It’s fine.

The walls were a depressing gray metal. Coldness seeped into the room, I could feel it in the steel of my cuffs already.

The guard shifted position, taking a step toward me.

I backed up swiftly, darting out my tongue to lick at my chapped lips.

He took another step forward, his hand not leaving the weapon on his side.

“St-stop. What do you want?” I sounded much more afraid than I wanted to. Where’s the confident, joking Lena from the airplane? I wish the others were here with me.

Or better yet, I wish I was back home with Peter...if he ever made it home.

I shook my head, trying not to picture the nightmares that road of thought could lead me down.

Peter was fine. Stark got him out in time.

Oh god, what would Peter think when I eventually didn’t show up at home. What about Nana?

Stop, don’t think about it now.   
Steve and Bucky made it out, it was worth it. I made my choice, now I gotta stand by it.

The guard’s heavy footfalls were jarring and again I backed up but stopped short when my hands met with the edge of a metal chair. It didn’t budge when I shoved the backs of my legs against it, which I thought meant it was snug under a table too.

My panicked gaze shot up toward the guard, who only smirked in response.

Shit, not good, not good.

Realizing he had me cornered, the guard held his hands out in front of him, a mock show of a truce.

I’m not some wild animal who needs to be talked down.

I straightened my posture the best I could and let the guard get closer.

He covered the distance in two strides and clamped his hand down onto my right shoulder before I could so much as blink.

The pain was almost blinding. I hadn’t put any pressure on the injury for hours and with the sudden jerk against the joint I was seeing stars.

I cried out, and my knees started to buckle as I jerked to the side trying to get out of his grasp.

As I was panting and inhaling harshly through my nose the guard pulled the chair out, shoved me in front of it and then dug his fingers into the bone. My right knee gave out as a wave of agony hit me, and then my body plummeted into the seat.

I was left straining for breath as my vision faded in and out in front of me.

The guard had yet to remove his hand from my shoulder, but continued to hold it in place. Maybe he was trying to hold me still, or maybe he was sick son of a bitch, who knew.

I scarcely made out the noise of the door swinging open behind me and I tried to life my drooping head. Sniffing I tried to stop my nose from running, it was enough of an embarrassment that I could feel tears springing into my eyes as well.

A man stepped around the table and stiffly positioned himself in the metal chair in front of me.

He was an older man, his beard already turning grey. His eyes were deepset and serious, harsh wrinkles framing his forehead and mouth. This looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with.

I sat on the edge of the chair, not wanting to put unnecessary pressure on my bound arms.

The man threw down a thin manila folder, and it skidded across the table. He seemed to reach out mechanically to open the case. Dark eyes flicked over the material before they finally moved upward and met mine.

The man’s mouth seemed to thin in disapproval as he roamed over my figure, briefly lingering on the injured shoulder which was undoubtedly swollen and had the joint sticking out to strain against the dark fabric of my suit.

He huffed out through his nose, “I am Lieutenant General Thaddeus Ross, Secretary of State under the United States, and I am here to discuss your suspected involvement of illegal activities in opposition to the newly ratified Sokovia Accords. We have evidence to assume that you, Magdalena Angelica Ruiz, have aligned yourself in opposition to the Sokovia Accords and have, yourself, allied with Steve Rogers, Captain America, and James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier.”

Ross was reading off a sheet of paper from the thin manila folder. I suspected that was all the information they could drudge up on me in the past couple of hours. There wasn’t much, which I was glad of.

Did Ross even know anything?

“Your were apprehended under duress at the Leipzig/Halle airport in Germany, wounded and suspected of-”

“Get somebody in here to fix my shoulder.” I slurred, reveling in the surprise on Ross’s face as I cut him off.

His eyebrows shot downward, making shadows appear over his eyes, and his face turned very stern, “Miss Ruiz,” He said stoically “Until we can determine your involvement in this case, you will be given no medical attention.”

I gaped at him. No medical attention? “What? So until I tell you what you want to hear, I’m gonna sit here and risk _permanent_ damage to my shoulder?” I glared across the table.

Ross set the manila folder down and discarded the printed text, but leveled me with an icy glare “Miss Ruiz, I don’t believe you understand the situation you find yourself in.” The guard’s hand was still a hot weight upon my shoulder, and it was making my skin twitch in agitation, “We know you were there in Germany, we don’t know how you got to be there, or _why_ you were there, but have reason to assume that you fought alongside Steve Rogers to allow a dangerous, unstable assassin to escape being apprehended by the U.S. government. Now, that sounds like _just_ enough to lock you away with, but in addition, we have reason to assume that you are a powered individual operating outside of the Sokovia Accords and thus operating illegally.” Ross sat back in his chair, the metal creaking under his weight.

Sweat had started to bead at my temple. The room felt as if it was getting hotter.

“You don’t have any evidence, you’re just saying that.” I stammered.

Ross raised a brow, “Oh? When my men arrived on the scene we were met with irreversible destruction done to German property, the horrible sight of a U.S. Colonel plummeting to his death-” _War Machine_ “and a shock of blue appearing out of mid air, and funny enough, a figure stumbling through onto the scene, that figure in question being you, Miss Ruiz.”

I could only gulp in response. Ross had evidence, he knew I was there, knew I was somehow powered, but didn’t know exactly how and clearly in his eyes that made me very dangerous. This was seriously bad.

“I _will_ be placing you on a registered index composed of all powered peoples known to the United States government and other private parties, and you will be answering for your crimes...like the other members of your team.” Ross folded his arms in front of his chest, his suit bunching up tightly across his stomach.

The good thing was that Ross only mentioned my team. No mention of Peter, no mention of Stark either. Maybe Stark got him out in time. Maybe not everything had gone to shit.

“Now, tell me where Rogers and Barnes are.”

I think my surprise was obvious.

“What makes you think I was on their side?” I argued. This chair was too hard, and my lower back was starting to ache in a very uncomfortable way. I tried to be subtle about shifting position.

Ross looked at me in agitation, “Well, Tony Stark didn’t object when we brought you into custody.”

Of course he didn’t.

I scoffed, “I don’t know where Rogers and Barnes are, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

If it was even possible Ross’s mouth turned into a more pronounced frown. He simply looked behind me and hummed low in his throat, and I gasped as the guard tightened his hold on my shoulder. The pulsing pain flared up again aggressively.

“You’re gonna torture me if I don’t give you answers?” My head was beginning to droop again, but I held it up the best I could “I swear, I don’t know where they are.” I forced out between clenched teeth.

The guard held his hand down firmly for a couple more seconds, his fingers pressing into the bone before Ross nodded his head tightly.

I let out a great whoosh of breath as soon as the guard loosened up on the pressure.

“Very well,” Ross gruffed out “tell me about your powers. What abilities do you have?”

He was asking what kind of threat I posed. Well I wasn’t going to tell him, that’s damn sure.

I stayed silent, my brooding stare pinned on the man before me.

Then the pain was back. This time it felt like the guard was shoving the inflamed joint even further out of socket. My throat burned from the bile that gurgled up my throat as I let out nonsensical shouts of agony. Tears had begun to leak out of my eyes, and they blurred my vision until all that I could see in front of me was a wall of gray.

“S-stop. Please.” I heaved in staggered breaths, my nose was running, and moisture pooled above my lip.

The immediate pain receded but there was still a horrible ache that continued to delve bone deep.

Ross sat quietly for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath, or to let me wallow in my self humiliation.

The others probably didn’t cry. They would have stuck it through. God, how could I think I could be on their level, and do what they do.

I tried to wipe my nose on the edge of my good shoulder, but couldn’t quite make it work.

“Again, what are your abilities?”

If I answered then they would know how to keep me here. There would be no escape plan, no heroic break out. I had to do it for the others, I couldn’t bend under the pressure.

“Fuck you, _pinche cabrón!”_  I spat, surging almost drunkenly from my seat, it was getting harder to concentrate. There were constant painful pulses tingling up and down my right arm.

Ross didn’t move an inch, my show of bravado not fazing him in the slightest. “Perhaps then we’ll ask your grandmother...Valentina Ruiz?”

The color drained from my face. My heartbeat started to surge in my chest. “Leave her alone, she-she doesn’t know anything. I’ve never told anyone, I swear.” I panted, my eyes darting around the room in panic.

They can’t go to Nana. She’s a liability, and probably the only one in their eyes who could be a problem if I went missing. Knowing Nana, she wouldn’t stop until she found me either, not since we spent all those days tracking Mom together, and especially not since we’re all we have left for each other.

Not even Peter could sway her on this, why didn’t I think of it beforehand. Fuck.

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we Miss Ruiz.”

True panic flared in my chest.

Ross then stood, folded the manila folder beneath his arm and nodded to the guard behind me.

I choked as a metal collar was placed over my throat, my chest heaving in distress. The click of metal on metal was like a gun shot through the tiny room.

The collar slid beneath the edge of my suit and sat, a shock of cold against the fevered warmth of my neck.

I couldn’t breathe.

Ross rapped his knuckles harshly on the table as he stopped next to me. “We’ll speak again Miss Ruiz, we’ve got you under close surveillance, one slip and you get shot with 50k volts.” He looked pointedly at the collar and then nodded contently. On his way out he gave a lazy salute, the door let out a soft click as it opened and then I heard Ross’s heavy footsteps fade down the hall.

Immediately as the last step was heard the guard behind me pulled me to my feet, and at least had the decency to pull the good shoulder, maybe he’d filled his torture quota for the day.

My head dropped to my chest, half out of exhaustion and half the heavy weight of the collar.

It was humiliating.

They do see me as an animal after all.

And if I don’t comply they what? Put me down?

I didn’t put up any fight as the guard moved me down darkened corridors and twisted entrances.

He seemed to like that.

His hand was no longer on the top of my back, but was held against the back of my neck. Half of his sweaty palm sliding against my skin as we walked and half warming the cold metal.

A gag made its way up my throat but didn’t follow through.

Finally we reached what looked like a massive metal hangar door.

It was huge. The guard flashed a purple ID badge at a well hidden camera in the corner before the door slid open slowly.

Stale damp air flowed through, and brushed my hair back from my face.

I sluggishly dragged my feet forward, but a smile crept on my face as soon as I saw what was inside.

In identical cells lining the walls was my team.

Sam and Scott sat on bare metal beds, but perked up as the door slid open.

Clint stood at once, his forearms braced against the thick glass separating us.

And Wanda sat in a daze, the corner of a dull blanket pulled over her lap.

I offered a small smile and winced as I shrugged my shoulders in defeat.

I gave a massive sigh and then stepped further into the prison.

“Hey guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> pendejos: idiots, morons  
> Oye: listen! Hey!  
> Pinche Cabrón: fucking bastard
> 
> Wow Ross sucks.  
> Also I'm just guessing what goes on at the Raft, so I hope it all makes sense. 
> 
> Will Lena try to escape?  
> Will Ross ever find out about her abilities?  
> How will the team cope with being locked up together?
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos!!


	8. Take a Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DIY medical care is sketchy.  
> Lena dreams and makes a new discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I hope everyone has had a chance to see Captain Marvel bc it was fantastic. Man, I love Carol. wow. 
> 
> This chapter was kinda hard to write. It's a bit of a filler, but the action should be ramping up soon. 
> 
> Also I totally don't know if you can fix a dislocated shoulder in this way, but after watching many videos and tutorials I figured this is what Lena would have to work with. If you dislocate your shoulder...get professional help lmao.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments!  
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

“Okay, kid, you’re gonna have to tie the knot _very_ tight. Are you doing it? Be careful...you don’t want to rip the whole arm off while you’re at it.” Clint’s shouts bounced and echoed off the sides of the massive chamber walls.

I was panting, loud huffs of air shot out my nose and sweat started to bead on my forehead.

The dull blanket from the cell was made of a rough wool and irritated the open skin of my wrist.

Trying to pull the blanket as taut as I could, I gripped the edges with one hand, and pulled against the bunched fabric held between my teeth.

About an hour after I was locked in this cell, an hour after the cuffs were removed, the ache in my shoulder was too much to bare any longer.

The asshole guard had unceremoniously shoved me into a neighboring cell, and ripped the restraints off in one go.  The blinding pain that soon followed wasn’t something I’d shake off anytime soon. It resemembed the pins and needles feeling of when your foot falls asleep but multiplied by one thousand...yeah never want to go through that ever again.

Sam said I passed out, and I guess I did because all I remember is waking up in a heap against a cold metal wall near the toilet in the corner.

I thought it was time to pop this shoulder joint back in place.

Apparently Clint had past experience with DIY emergency medical care, or he was good at projecting false confidence, it didn’t really matter,  I was ready to do just about anything.

Either I do nothing and my shoulder’s fucked up forever, or I try and fix it myself and the arm gets even _more_ fucked up, who knows, in the end maybe it’ll be good as new.  I thought I’d take those odds.

“If I end up ripping the thing off, please get me a badass metal arm.” I said through clenched teeth.

The wool blanket was looped around the back of the metal toilet, and I was crouched next to it, trying not to wobble too much on the balls of my feet.

I held my bad arm close to my stomach, and struggled to tie the ends of the blanket around my limp wrist.

Wrapping, and double wrapping it just in case, the fabric formed a taut line from my lower arm to the back of the toilet.

My arm was braced against my abdomen, and it shook as I tried to hold the tied blanket in place.

“Okay! I did it, now what?” I yelled.

Our cells were spaced out along one wall, and I really wished Clint could somehow _see_ what I was doing instead of having to rely on his one sided guidance.

“Now, slowly start standing up, keep the blanket tight and let your weight pull back on it, don’t force it! Hopefully, when you stand the joint will just slip back into the socket.”

Hopefully? “You know what you’re doing, right?” I asked sceptically.

Clint was silent for a moment, “Yeah, in theory.”

“Great, that’s just great.” 

I swayed back and forth on my heels. This is going to hurt. Deep breath, come on I can do this.

“Come on, Lena. Slow and steady, you got this.” Sam said.

Leaning backwards slightly I tested the pull on the blanket, and took three deep breaths before rocking forward and gradually attempting to stand.

The pulling strain wasn’t an explosion of agony like I thought it was going to be. It started as a slight ache flowing up my arm before transforming into a tight spring of pain which radiated from my fingertips to my clenched jaw.

I continued to rise in one slow fluid motion. The blanket pulled my arm forward in a steady harsh grip, but I didn’t stop, not when it was so close to being fixed.

Fast exhales were moving through my nose, and I kept my eyes trained on the taut strip of fabric in front of me.

I had to keep it tight, maintaining the pressure was important if  I wanted to jerk the joint back into place.

My knees were unbent at this point, and the stretching feel of the arm was starting to set my teeth on edge.

I never thought I’d have to rely on myself to fix something like this.  

Skinned knees and broken fingers were a quick fix, something I knew I could handle. But this, this was different. If I was back home, this probably would’ve been solved after one trip to Urgent Care, or Nana would have shoved the shoulder back in place herself.

I could feel the joint moving. It was beginning to shift from the continual pressure against it.

“Come on, come on, come on.” I chanted through my teeth. The whole arm seemed to be pounding in time with my heartbeat. My back was hunched over, the arm not fully straightened just yet. I tossed my head back trying to move the hair out of my eyes, and checked on the taut blanket.

The rough edges tied against my wrist were beginning to slip.

Shit. The joint was moving under my skin, if I let the fabric go loose then the shoulder would snap back out of place.

I just had to hold it a couple more seconds. Time to speed this process up.

“Is it working?” Clint called out hopefully. If I could see him I’m sure he’d be pacing the length of his cell.

“Uh-yeah, yeah-the blanket _might_ be slipping a bit.” My voice squeaked, I couldn’t take my eyes off the loosening fabric, I’ve got to do something fast. “I-I think I’m just going to yank it.”

There was a stunned beat of silence, “I definitely think you should _not_ do that.” Sam stated.

“Just untie the blanket and try it again in a couple minutes” Urged Clint, he sounded on a little nervous.

I huffed in irritation, “I want this shit fixed now guys, yeah...I’m just gonna yank it really hard.”

Both of them started complaining at once, their voices overlapping in the large space.

“I’m doing it!” I called out.

“Lena-”

“Wait! Don’t -”

Bracing my feet against the hard ground, I rotated my wrist once, the fabric would hold for one more tug, it had to. Deep breath, I closed my eyes and turned my face away in a grimace.

Here goes nothing.

Without thinking too much about it, I stood all the way up in one great rush.

There was a searing pain that made me cry out, a rough grating in my shoulder and then the shock of a _pop_.

Immediately the aching pain faded. The numbness of my injured arm receding away like it hadn’t been pure agony not hours ago.

I tried to focus on making my breathing stable, the ramped up adrenaline from the moment making my head swoon.

My face was still turned away and I took the lessened pain as a sign that the arm wasn’t totally mangled.

“What happened? Did the arm get ripped off?” Scott called out, “because I think the metal arm idea was a good call. I’m on board with it.”

Scoffing, I turned my face toward the injured shoulder.

The arm was still attached to my body, thankfully.

There was a red ring around my wrist from where the blanket had been tied, but other than that everything seemed okay.

“In all the movies they put the arm in a sling...so I’m gonna do that.”

Trying not to jostle anything, I tugged on the blanket and it spooled at my feet in a small pile.

I didn’t want to try and move the shoulder too much, but I carefully shifted it into position against my stomach.

The pain had lessened, but the entire arm felt like a giant bruise.

I had to use my teeth again to tighten the blanket around my elbow and loop it over my left shoulder.

The moment I’d stood up and felt that resounding _pop_ I had known the shoulder was fixed. Sure, it might take a while to heal, and maybe there will be a couple of problems with maintaining the full movement, but there was less pain, and that was enough.

It was also a giant ‘fuck you Secretary Ross’.

Once I felt that the sling was held snug against my body, I plopped down onto the bed.

The frenzied paranoia about my shoulder had evaporated and left behind a withered tiredness.

I scrubbed at my eyes with the back of my unbound hand, and they blurred for a moment before focusing on the cell.

I’d been less than impressed by our little prison cells. Bland walls, one toilet, a rickety bed, and a wool blanket. That was all.

The bed was hard under my thighs, and equally as cold.

The entire cell was a dampening cold. One step into the cell was enough to give me goosebumps and all I was given were blue slacks, a thin pullover, and a laughable attempt at an insulated shirt.

Sweat had dried to the back of my neck and seemed to be causing a chill to set into my bones. 

I'd barely been able to get the prison uniform on. I couldn't quite get the long sleeve over the shoulder, but the blue tee was baggy enough that it only caused a bit of discomfort. Stark's suit had slipped off without a problem. No idea where that went. Somebody had come to collect it shortly after I'd been dumped into the cell. Honestly, who knows if I'll ever see that thing again. It would've been nice...I'd bet good money that that thing has a built in heater. 

 I drummed my fingernails against the metal frame beneath me, “Whew, that was exhausting.” I attempted to lay back onto the bed but it was too uncomfortable. The firm metal under my back made my shoulder throb. Sitting up with a groan, I leant back against the cool wall, my feet barely hanging off the edge of the bed, “well...that probably took up a big chunk of time, what’s next on our ‘prison to do list’?”

“Lena, we’ve only been in here for an hour and a half.” Clint said.

My eyes bugged out, “What!” I shrieked, my head making a dull thud against the wall behind me. “An hour and a half, are you kidding me? That felt like at least four hours.”

“Nah, I know what four hours in prison feels like, this is definitely an hour and a half prison time denial.” Scott’s voice rang out.

I groaned into my hand, rubbing at the spot between my eyes in agitation. 

We’ve only been in this ocean prison for roughly two hours then.

Individually they interrogated us, and then we were locked up, and then I pouted for a while and now my shoulder’s fixed. All of that in the span of two hours. I guess it sounds plausible.

The initial tiredness from the un-dislocation of my shoulder continued to hold me down, my eyes drooping every so often.

The chamber was very quiet. When nobody was talking, there was a slight _drip drip drip_ that echoed around the hall. Glancing at the toilet in trepidation, I tried not to think about the dripping water more than I had to.

I had to admit it was hard not being able to see the others in here with me. If the silence went on for too long the anxiety and fear would creep in. Their presence grounded me. Scott and Clint were both pretty talkative, I think they knew I needed it. Sam was always there to offer insight, but he was quiet, brooding, thinking, I’m not sure. And Wanda...she hadn't said a word. The small glimpse I caught of her before the guard shoved me forward was seared into my mind. Wanda, lost, marooned in a corner of the cell, her arms wrapped around her body, her sharp gaze tracking me as I’d entered the chamber, and the gleam of a metal collar around her neck.

I shuddered just to think of it.

At least we were together.

I could only handle the lonesome quiet for so long, “ So...did all of you get the scary stare down from Ross earlier, or was that just me?” My elbow itched under the wool sling, but it was hard to reach in and get to it without messing up the tied knot.

“Oh, yeah.” Sam piped in. “Where’s Rogers, where’s Barnes, and all that.”

“Okay good...and you didn’t tell them anything right?” I said, picking at the split skin on my bottom lip.

“No, of course not.”

I nodded to myself. Keeping Ross away from Steve and Bucky was the main issue. We couldn’t let him get anywhere near them. Knowing that Ross was unaware of their mission did nothing to stop the worry pooling in my gut.

“Did they--do you think they made it? Steve and Bucky?” I said, my voice sounding timid even to my own ears. I didn’t want to think of the other outcome.

Clint was the one who answered, “They did. We gotta believe they did. If not...well then at least we know we did what was right.”

I hummed in agreement.

Steve and Bucky made it out, they had to.

Clint, Scott, Sam, Wanda and I were locked in here. We’d put everything on the line to get them that far, and I knew that I trusted them to see it through, but it was torture not knowing if they really made it or not.

I was in prison. Imprisoned for illegal activities against the American government.  22 years old and in prison.

I knew I had made the right call. I _knew_ that, but the panic and doubt shot through my brain like live electricity.

What if we never got out? What if I was stuck here forever?

What if Steve and Bucky were shot down, the quinjet swallowed by the churning ocean, or lost in a Siberian blizzard?

Did Peter even make it out? No stop, don’t think about Peter, don’t do this to yourself.

Peter got out, he had to.

My eyes were clenched shut against the onslaught of images. Peter left in Germany. Peter stuck with Stark. Peter in chains. Peter strung up like a _criminal._ Ross’s roughened hand clasped down on Peter’s shoulder. A boyish gasp of pain. Stop. Brown eyes turned to liquid, tears streaking down pink cheeks.

My breathing had intensified. My fingers scrambled against the metal of the bed frame, the scratching sensation making my jaw twitch.

I can’t breathe.  

Subconsciously I could hear myself trying to rake in ragged breaths.

Was I having a panic attack?

Calm down, Lena. Calm down.

I could hear Sam from the other cell, he was trying to help. “Breathe in, and out. There you go. It’s okay. We’re here. Lena, you’re not alone in this.”

I’m not alone.

Peter made it out.

Steve and Bucky made it out.

We’ll get out of here eventually.

Oh, Nana I miss you so much.

“Sam, I-I can’t breathe.” I stuttered.

My left hand had reached up to claw at my throat, my nose was running.

Horrible images were flitting through my brain, and I didn’t think I had the strength to stop them.

A soft voice cut through the panic, “Lena, breathe. It will be alright. Everything will be okay.”

Wanda?

“There you go, another, yes, breathe.”

Her voice lilted through the space, wrapping around me in a warm embrace.

Gradually I felt my breathing regulate. No longer was I trying to gasp for breath, but it I was concentrating on each inhale and exhale I produced.

After a couple of minutes, the panic was replaced with embarrassment.

I wiped a finger under my eyes, and swiped at my running nose.

“I-I’m so sorry guys, I don’t know what happened. One moment I was fine, and then I-I just flipped out.” I stammered. Shifting my weight, the coolness of the metal walls helped to soothe the jittery feeling in my body, and wash away the redness that probably covered my cheeks.

“What happened?” Clint asked softly.

I sighed, “I don’t know. I-I was thinking about Steve and Bucky and their mission, and then I started thinking about Pe-my friend, and then it went  on to my grandma, and-” Trying not to cry, I swallowed the choked sobs making their way up my throat. “-they don’t know where I am, and I don’t know where they are...I’m so scared.”

Only the sounds of my small sniffles filled the chamber.

“Kid-Lena, it’s okay to be worried, we’re all worried here. We’ve got people that we left behind who are probably worrying about us too. We’ve got your back, you’re not alone here.”  

Clint sounded concerned, his voice wobbling faintly.

“Yeah, you’ve got us. We’re a team.” Scott added.

Even Sam went on to add his say, “It’ll be tough, but we’ll get through it.”

Although Wanda didn’t say anything else, I could tell she felt the same. Her support radiated warmth even in the cold depths of this prison.

To think I’d only known these people for a day, and yet I could feel that we were going to be good friends for a long time. I’ve got their back, and they’ve got mine.

“Thanks guys, this really means a lot coming from you all.  I know we just met, which is...crazy, but now we’re friends and you’re stuck with me.”

Chuckles reached my ears from the teammates around me.

My head leaned back against the cold wall, and the small tug of a smile on my lips pulled at the still tender cut on my cheek, but it didn't matter. 

From jumping between the shoulder dislocation and then to the panic attack I was finally feeling the full effects of the exhaustion setting in. The used adrenaline leaked from my body in one giant sweep, I mumbled something about taking a nap before I drowned out the surrounding noises.

Like a large wave it settled over my body. Slowly my eyes began to droop, my head going back to lean against the cell wall, and my body becoming loose and pliant.

I’ll just close my eyes for a second, just to get my energy back up.

The cell was cold, but my body felt warm, almost feverish.

A low murmur of voices played in the background, but I couldn’t focus just then.

Everything was going to be fine. Clint said so, and Sam did too.

Now I knew that if I ever started thinking and spiraling like that again then they’d be there to bring me back.

Peter was fine, he’s probably back home right now worrying about homework with Ned or something.

Nana is probably worried, but she can make do, she’s so strong.

My eyes fluttered closed at last with a final sigh leaving my lips.

God, I hope Steve and Bucky were safe.

Wherever they were, at least they had each other.

===============================================

===============================================

_The stir of an engine was roaring in my ears._

_The cockpit of the plane was dark, shadows were thrown across the tight space. I could see through the front windows that we were high in the clouds. Wisps of vapor parted around the nose of the aircraft and large water droplets formed and shaped against the glass._

_There was a red beacon blinking on the console._

_Movement caught my eye. A door was left open in the back of the cockpit. The door lead to the rest of the plane, the passenger quarters._

_It was a large vessel, military grade? No, a jet. High-tech. Kind of familiar._

_The doorway was packed tight between oxygen masks and small compartments but once I had made up my mind to move beyond it, I suddenly found myself in a much more open area._

_Seats lined the sides of the cabin._

_A man sat unmoving,  hardened gaze aimed at his lap where, laid across the tops of his thighs, was a weapon._

_The firearm glinted steel rays of grey into the open cabin, and the eerie darkened pools of black echoed in the man's eyes never strayed from it._

_I must have taken a step forward, for suddenly I was standing over the man._

_His head bowed under my shaking hand._

_It was hard to see his face, the shadows imbedded themselves in the contours of both his jaw and cheek bones._

_He looked so...conflicted._

_His body spoke of the conflict within him._

_Broad shoulders were strained against his tactical uniform, and his biceps seemed to be pulsing with masked strength._

_One hand almost white in the dim light as it curved dangerously around the weapon in his lap, and the other hand covered in darkness._

_A noise brought us both out of the stupor._

_His head shot up suddenly. There was no gradual awakening from his conflicted day dreams, only immediate reaction._

_Hardened jaw went from clenched to loosely pliant in the span of an instant. Was there a slip of a smile on those lips?_

_I lazily let my eyes roam over his relaxing shoulders and a bitten bottom lip before it finally clicked._

_Bucky?_

_It was Bucky!_

_His storm blue eyes were focused somewhere over my shoulder, and the easy shy smile returned._

_I turned, and saw a blonde head duck out from behind a panel in the wall._

_Steve smiled briefly, his eyes taking in the scene before him._

_Both of their eyes swept over the place I was standing... and, nothing._

_I didn't even seem to produce a shadow, but in the moment I was content to fade into the background._

_"We're crossing into Siberia, Buck. ETA at two hours." Steve slid into the open seat next to Bucky with ease._

_Bucky nodded, and then shifted in his seat slightly, the edge of the rifle nudged Steve's knee._

_A metal hand shot out, holding the rifle in a more secure position. The metal fingers opened and closed around the butt of the weapon, almost flittering in an anxious pattern over it._

_They both started speaking at the same time._

_"Buck, are you-"_

_"Steve, your-"_

_Silence fell over them once again._

_An encouraging look passed over Steve's face. He had taken off the Captain America helmet, and because of it there were red crease marks lining the tops of his cheeks._

_Bucky took in a shallow breath, "Steve, you-your friends- so much shit has happened, I just want to make sure you know what you've gotten yourself into."_

_There was a tense pause, and the sound of creaking metal as Bucky tightened his grip on the rifle._

_Steve placed a comforting hand over the rifle, not quite touching the metal of Bucky's hand, but resting close enough to mean something._

_"I don't regret it, if that's what you're asking...and neither does my team. They all knew what they were walking into, and now it's up to us to see it through, pal."_

_The creaking stopped, and Bucky mechanically readjusted his grip on the weapon, simultaneously checking the safety and inserted ammunition._

_Both of them gazed down at the grey hand as Bucky spread it and then made a fist repeatedly, it moved in fluid motions like molten silver._

_"I just don't know if I was worth all this, Steve. Maybe not all of them knew what they were fighting for." There was a muted glint in his eye, and for the first time the loose smile on his lips looked defeated rather than warm._

_Steve moved his hand off the rifle, and sat back in his chair. The white star on his chest shone out in stark contrast to the darkened atmosphere of the quinjet._

_"They knew,_ she  _knew."  His hand moved upwards to rub over his reddened eyes, "You gotta trust that you've got people in your corner...and my gut's telling me that it'll be a tough job getting' rid of them."_

_His shoulder bumped into Bucky's, and the dullness seeped out of his eyes just a bit._

_"Yeah, well, I've been trying damned hard to get rid of you, punk, but it's been about 80 years and you're still hangin' around."_

_Soft laughter spilled from between their lips and then died down naturally, companionable silence filling the aircraft._

_Steve rose, making his way toward the cockpit, and then paused between the doorway, one hand braced against the black frame._

_"I'm gonna double check our coordinates one more time" Bucky could tell that the tightened lines around Steve's eyes were as much for nerves as exhaustion "We'll get through this. Together."_

_Bucky smiled, his hair swinging in front of his eyes as he looked down at the rifle. He clicked the safety off and moved it to lean against his calf._

_He stood, made his way to where Steve was standing, and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. Sun glinted through the front windows from the expansive icy terrain getting closer each second._

_"Together" Bucky replied._

_==============================_

_==============================_

I roared to life with a massive gasp.

My head was pounding, and my eyes were practically rolling in their sockets.

What had I just seen?

Steve and Bucky..but I’d never seen them like that, I don’t remember ever seeing that before.

The dream was so vivid. Unrealistically vivid. I couldn't have come up with that all alone. 

Was it even a dream to begin with?

Think Lena come on.

I stood and began to pace the length of my cell.

Remember what happened before I went to sleep.

I was tired. Exhausted even.

The sling on my shoulder was still holding up, and the ache that was present still radiated throughout my arm.

 I had a panic attack. I remember that.

I was worried about Steve and Bucky.

We didn’t know if they had made it, or where they were, if they were safe.

I fell asleep...thinking about them. About where they were.

My head shot up in amazement.

No, it couldn’t be.

“Guys!” I screamed, racing to the edge of the cell.

I placed my palms against the thick glass, straining to see the others.

“GUYS!” My voice echoed through the chamber.

There was a shuffle from the other side.

“What!?”

“Uh-what happened?”

“Lena?”

There was a chorus of replies.

I tried to calm down, but I was too excited, practically bouncing on my feet. “Okay, before you freak, just hear me out.”

My palms were beginning to sweat against the tempered glass.

“So I took a nap, and I fell asleep thinking about where Steve and Bucky were, and then I fucking _saw_ them.” I squealed, “It was like a dream, but I knew it was real! They-they’re okay. I saw them!”

There was stunned silence from the others. I was too ecstatic to even think about Ross and his goons listening in. I could deal with that later.

“...you saw Cap and Barnes?” Sam sounded skeptical.

“Yes!”

“...and they’re okay.”

“Holy shit, Sam. Yes, alright?” I pounded one fist against the glass, why weren’t they getting this? It’s a breakthrough.

“Maybe, just maybe, when I use my powers, like how I envision where I want to go, I can envision people too. Maybe, since I know the person...I could just portal straight to them!” I shouted.

Damn Ross and his agendas, I was excited about this. 

Clint was the one who responded this time. “I don’t know, Lena. How do you know what you saw was real?”

That stopped me short, “Look, I don’t really know, but I swear it _felt_ real. I couldn’t have dreamt that.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that actually makes sense.” Scott said, “If she thinks about where she can portal, and it’s probably easier when she’s been to the place or is familiar with it...then why can’t she just pop in on people too. Maybe while you were taking a power nap your subconscious made a halfway portal bond thing with Captain Rogers, and then you woke up.”

A smile felt its way onto my face. I was practically jumping with excitement.

“I’m gonna try it again.”

Both and Clint and Sam spoke up.

“Maybe you should wait-”

“Take it slow-”

I blocked it out and plopped down on my bed once more.

My fingers messaged into my temples.

Come on, Lena concentrate.

This time I pictured Peter in my mind.

Holding the image of his face in my head I concentrated all my power on trying to see him.

Don’t think about where you are, just picture Peter. Find Peter.

Slowly, as if it was a mirage, and image began to appear.

_Peter sat in a large office chair._

_It swiveled back and forth under his weight as he pushed off from one side of the small desk to the other._

_In his hand was wadded piece of fabric. He’d toss it into the air and watch it flit back into his open palm._

Was that my bandana?

It was black, and seemed stiff in its descent. Maybe it was still covered in my blood from the fight.

The cut on my cheek was barely a bother anymore, since the dislocated shoulder thing definitely eclipsed it.

_Peter’s hair was disheveled and he had darkened circles under his eyes._

Oh, Pete.

_He sighed before shooting a web out and zapping the floating banda to the purple wall in front of him._

Was he in my bedroom?

He was.

_The bed looked slept in, and the floor was cleaner than usual._

Nana probably cleaned it. What was Peter doing there?

_Suddenly the door flew open. Nana rushed in, my laptop clutched in her hands._

_She too looked tired. Her usually manicured bun was messy, and loops of greying hair fell out of the coils._

_Peter straightened in the chair immediately and moved over to make room for the computer on the desk._

_“Mrs. Ruiz-”_

_Nana shushed him, and slapped the computer onto the desks surface “Mira, I found something. There were images taken off a phone, does this look like Magdalena?”_

_The images were blurry at best, but they were the right images._

_Somehow, someone had gotten to the battlefield in Germany and now had photographic evidence._

_I thought I could make out my unconscious form being carried by two men. They were headed toward the hangar bay, where the prison aircraft was probably stored._

_Peter’s face came alive. “Yes! That’s her. She was wearing the suit Mr.Stark made for her. Look, see right here?” He pointed to the image again._

_Nana squinted her eyes at it, a grin tugging at her lips._

_“Stark, told you nothing about Lena and now we’re going to find her, mijo.” She pulled out a pad of paper, a pencil held in her shaky hand, “I think there’s a name on the uniform of one of those men, or a symbol, can you see if you can make it out?”_

_Peter got closer to the screen, and nodded._

_“I’ve sent out emails to all of the people, anyone who had a picture.” Nana had a determined look in her eyes. “We’ll find her, I know we will.”_

My eyes flew open in shock.

Oh, this was bad.

My hands were tightly wringing in my lap.

Nana and Peter were trying to follow my trail, and it would lead them straight to Ross.

They couldn’t get mixed up in this, I had to stop it.

It would be bad enough if Nana got caught by Ross, but...Peter.

Panic was crawling up my throat.

If Ross found Peter then there was no going back.

There’d be a cell with his name on it.

The only thing that calmed me down was that Ross didn’t know about Peter. I hoped that Stark hadn’t said anything about him, or about the team he had assembled, but I could never know.

Once Peter caught Ross’s eye, he’d slip up. He’d be on the accords for sure.

My heart pounded in my chest.

Was Peter already on the accords? Did Stark sign his name on the dotted line?

He might have.

I stood shakily.

“Clint, how long do you think I have before Ross shows up?”

“I’d guess around five minutes tops, I’m sure his people heard the whole conversation, but there’s no knowing if they got it to him immediately or not.”

My chin jutted out in determination.

“I saw my Nana and Pe- _my friend._ They’re trying to find me, and I gotta stop them. They shouldn’t pull on this thread, they don't know what they're getting themselves into.”

My hair was a tangled mess and I tried to shove it further behind my ears.

“I-I can just send them a quick message, if I can get in contact with them then-”

“Lena, are you sure this is the right decision? Ross will have it on tape, he’ll definitely know what you can do.”

I couldn’t make a giant portal. My shoulder was still incapacitated, and I needed my arms to make something big enough to walk through.

But..maybe I could make a small version of one.

I still had the one hand.

Clenching my hand into a fist, I tried to picture what I wanted to see.

Hopefully the mini portal would spring to life in my palm.

I had to try. If I could just warn them, tell them to drop it then it would be enough.

“It is the right decision.” Blue energy started to pulse from between my fingers.

“What if this doesn’t go the way you think it will? What if they’re safe?” Sam stated.

The blue electricity was hot in my hand, the hairs along my arm raising from the radiated power. 

“I can’t take that chance.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translation:
> 
> mira: Look  
> mijo: my son
> 
> I was always confused about how Peter legit just 'went along' with Stark in CW, and then just went back home??? Like dude. Also the endgame trailer.....Idk if I'm more scared of excited for this movie. 
> 
> Will Lena make contact with Pete and her Nana?  
> Will Ross find out?  
> Why is Wanda so quiet?  
> Why did Stark do everything that he did?


	9. What Did I Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena regrets her impulsive decision making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm sorry this is late.   
> I realized that I had some continuity errors within chapter 7 & 8 which I went back and fixed. They didn't fit in the with direction I was taking Lena's story. 
> 
> This was a tough chapter to write, but hopefully I did it justice. 
> 
> Enjoy  
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

Come on, come on, come on. 

My gaze jerked sharply between the blue energy held in my palm and the daunting metal of the prison door. 

I had minutes at best before Ross stormed the place. 

Concentration was hard. It felt as if my thoughts were pounding painfully inside my skull and mixing with the anxious paranoia I was experiencing.  

Whatever happened, I just knew I  _ had  _ to talk to my Nana. She was getting herself into something dangerous, and it was up to me to save her from it. 

“Come on, yes that’s it!” I muttered under my breath. Blue glowing energy was surging between my clenched fingers, and once I opened my hand, hopefully I’d see a perfect compact portal. 

I had never tried this before, but it should work. There was no reason for it not to work. 

Ross and his guards hung over me like a dense cloud of apprehension. It was inevitable that they’d show up soon. There was recorded evidence, not only of some part of my power, but maybe even of the whereabouts of Steve and Bucky. Ross wouldn't let that go.

My arm was shaking, blue veins bulging in stark contrast to the pallor of my skin. 

Closing my eyes quickly I latched on to an image of Ross, forcing his face to the forefront of my mind. 

Immediately, a picture was painted before me. My cell and almost portal fading into the background for only a moment. 

_ Ross stormed into the room.  _

_ The metal clang of an opening door made the nearest guard flinch in his chair.  _

_ There were monitors before them. Video footage, audio recordings, buttons and levers to who knows what.  _

_ Ross’s jaw twitched and his eyes were hard as steel as they swept over the monitors set before him.  _

_ “S-sir, we have audio on the girl, you-you want to hear this.”  _

_ After a sharp nod from Ross, my voice filtered in over the speakers.  _ _   
_ _ The audio paired with video, and I could see clear footage of my ranting and excitement from not minutes before.  _

_ Ross’s face turned down, eager eyes caught on the recordings like bees to honey.  _

_ “Again, play it again.” _

Gasping, I shoved the thought of Ross from my mind. 

He knew. He knew about Steve and Bucky. In the next few minutes he would be here, and he’d take no shit. 

My heart pounded an irregular beat through my chest. 

Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the anxiety and fear and brought my Nana’s face front and center. 

The blue between my fingers surgered, the brightness splashing against the metal walls. 

My hand flew open, and there, sat within it was a darkened portal of electric blue power. 

It fit perfectly in my hand. 

If it was a different situation I’d probably joke with Peter about how iPhones are out because I’ve got portal facetime. 

Blackness swirled softly in the hole before an image popped into fruition. 

I blinked in surprise as Nana’s face shone back at me. 

The portal showed her from the waist up, and a dirty kitchen made up the background. 

It was the first time I’d ever seen dirty dishes stacked in the sink. 

Nana’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ of shock before her grip slipped and a glass of soda shattered in a sticky mess on the floor tiles. 

“Lena! I-Where are you, mija?” She stuttered, her red manicured hand held up to her throat as she blinked owlishly at the portal before her. 

Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes. God, I wished I was home right now. 

There wasn’t time for any of this. Get to the point, Lena. 

“Nana, you need to stop looking for me” I said sternly, trying to emphasize the kind of danger she was in, “I’m fine. I’m alive. Stop looking, Nana. Dangerous people will get involved if you’re not careful”

Her face fell, “No. I can’t stop looking for you. Look at you! You’re hurt….  _ ay mijita _ . You - _ que es eso  _ -is that a prison uniform? What is that around your neck?” 

My hand jerked up to cup the metal collar resting around my throat. I couldn’t meet her eye as shame and embarrassment flooded my cheeks. “It’s nothing, I’m okay, see?” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes, “I-It’s..the less you know the better.  _ No te preocupes, Nana.  _ We’ll be together again, I promise.”

Nana’s eyes had yet to soften their hard edge of stubborness. The Ruiz’s were a stubborn bunch. It was hard getting through those thick skulls of theirs. 

“I’m not afraid of these people. They can’t take any more from me than they already have, and I will not lose you too, Magdalena.”

Sighing, I closed my eyes briefly. “Nana,  _ trust me _ , you won’t lose me. I’ll get out of here soon enough...we have a plan to escape.”  I lied. I would say anything to convince her. 

I was running out of time. Ross could be just around the corner.  

Desperation filtered through my gaze, “Nana,  _ please, por favor,  _ stop looking. Stop asking for leads, or anything. I-I, if you got hurt...I just can’t live without you.”

The slight crack in my voice was all it took for her face to soften, her eyes filled with melancholy warmth. I’d never felt a stronger ache to be in her arms than in that moment.

“Who has taken you? Where is the danger coming from?” She searched my face, and then tried to see past me into the cell, attempting to gather as much information as possible. In the moment I didn’t have the tact to block her. 

“They’ve got connections in high places...I shouldn’t even be talking to you. They can play back the conversation, Nana, they can hear everything.” Her gaze turned hard once more, “I-I’m scared. They’ll know about me now. I just wish I was back home.”

Fear had snuck into my voice. It was getting harder to hold back, and the little slip made me want to curl up and close the connection immediately. I had to be strong, or show that I  _ could  _ be strong.  

“Mrs. Ruiz?” A thin voice called out. Peter’s light footsteps sounded from the living room. 

Nana moved to approach him, but I caught her in time. 

“NO, send him away. No one can know he’s involved, Nana. Keep him safe, send him home.” 

She looked apprehensive, but Peter was getting closer and there was no time. 

“If they hear about him,  _ know  _ about him, then they’ll have a cell ready with his name on it.” I ground out. 

Ross would never get his hands on Peter. I'd make sure of it.

I could see the message start to root into her brain. Nana’s eyes had widened, and once more a hand was raised to her throat in surprise, or horror. 

Her head turned, split between Peter and myself. 

Everything froze as a loud knocking was heard on the door. 

For a second, I believed it to be coming from the prison cell, maybe Ross had decided to knock before he stormed the castle. 

Not soon after, my breath caught in my throat. The knocking was coming through the portal. 

Nana looked back calmly. Maybe it was nothing. A friendly neighbor perhaps, but that was just wishful thinking. 

“NYPD! We’d just like to ask you some questions, ma’am.” 

My hands started the shake, the blue portal going fuzzy around the edges. 

“Nana, don’t answer the door.”

Ross knew. He’d sent them already. Nana was in danger, Peter was in danger, and I was restrained, both hands tied behind my back. 

The knocking persistently got louder. 

Nana’s face paled, and she slowly reached down to smooth the apron tied around her waist. 

Peter rounded the corner quickly, his socked feet slipping on the sticky tile. 

His eyes grew comically round as they met mine through the portal, and he quickly sized up my condition. The brown pools flickered between the barely healed cut on my cheek, to the messy sling around my shoulder, and lastly to the metal collar around my neck. 

His jaw clenched, and I knew his teeth were grinding in his mouth. His shirt had a dull stain on the front, and his hair stuck up in all different directions, but that didn't stop the immediate spring to alertness that surged through his body. 

There wasn’t time for this. I spared him a glance and then surged into action. “Get out! Don’t trust the police. Just go, get somewhere safe.” They both froze, listening to the violent pounding on the door, the sounds of splintering wood filled the apartment. 

The TV was still on in the living room. 

“Find Stark.” It had come to that, he was the last card I had to play. “He can talk to Ross, he-he can keep you safe, I-”

A loud crash was heard from the front door. Peter swung around wildly, flinging an arm out to shelter Nana. Footsteps bounded across the wooden floor in the dining room and a framed photo tilted sideways from the break in, a thin crack in the glass reflected like dewy spiderwebs.

Nana’s eyes sought mine. She was calm, only the harsh frown laid upon her ruby lips indicated otherwise.  

She gave me an imperceptible nod, and then turned, brushing off Peter’s hold on her in one go, and then shoving him toward the TV room. He shot her a surprised look, but his stumbling feet moved him away from the approaching policemen. 

Brown met brown for an instant as we locked eyes, desperate for a last sight of the other before he disappeared around the corner. 

The policemen had chosen to search the hallway first. I cringed, thinking about destroyed clothes dressers and broken bed frames. The kitchen was next. 

“Nana, go!” I screamed. 

A figure surged into the kitchen. Black tactical gear darned his body and his arms bulged against the sleeves. Hardened gray eyes swept the space, darting to the portal and then down to my Nana who stood pressed back against the sink. Water seeped into the back of her embroidered blouse.

“Valentina Ruiz, you’re coming with us for questioning,” We made scorching eye contact through the portal, and the corner of his mouth turned down, “Cease all communications, immediately.” 

The man relaxed his position, the firearm slotted back into a holster on his waist. Another agent entered, and their presence seemed like a black cloud over the familial kitchen. 

The other agent looked over the space with a trained eye, not once lingering on the dirty dishes or opened cabinets. “The apartment is empty, there are no other civilians present.” He said in a clipped tone.

A great whoosh left my lungs, and little bit of the anxiety chipped off my shoulders. 

Peter got out in time. 

The supposed leader leaned his bulking weight against the door frame. A wooden cross mounted on the wall crunched under his shoulder. Dark eyes met mine once more before the other agent burst into motion. Nana was pulled from the sink. The rough grip bruised the flesh of her upper arm as she was moved outward. Her slippered feet caught on the floor mat, but the harsh hold from the agent propped her upright. 

The other guard turned, making his way out of the kitchen. 

Nana moved with precision and although she didn’t have the strength to tear herself away from the agents grasp she twisted in his arms, making sure she faced in my direction. 

She attempted to stay in place, her feet taut against the wooden floor, but then man was not gentle in his pulling and shoving. 

“Lena,  _ estoy bien, el chico esta seguro,  _ he is safe, I love you, I will tell them nothing.  _ Nada. Te quiero mucho, mija.” _

Nana disappeared from sight as the agent stepped in front of the portal, his broad back coloring the portal in darkened shadows. 

I meant to call out, or reach inside, just the glance of my fingertips on the edges of her hair would be enough, but a shout pulled my attention away. 

“Lena!” 

My head jerked upward toward Clint’s cell. 

He was standing against the glass, his arms tensed against his torso. 

The  _ clang  _ of the metal door opening into the chamber pierced my eardrums, and my heart leapt into my throat. 

Ross had finally arrived. 

He stormed out in front, only two other guards flanking him, and he looked  _ pissed.  _

His eyes darted down to the portal in my hand and back up, his lip curling in anger. 

“Miss Ruiz, cease all outside communications immediately.” He spat. 

I panicked, my gaze flicking down to the portal. The guard was manhandling Nana out of the kitchen, but her head was twisting backwards, trying to see me. 

Ross didn’t stop, he continued to march toward my cell. 

The others were standing as well. Sam and Scott stood near the glass, their worried gazes hooked on the procession of guards. Clint was pacing the cell slowly, a hand reaching up to swipe through his tousled hair. 

Wanda, for all of her quiet disposition, trained her eyes on the approaching men in rapt attention. 

“Get your men to leave my Nana alone.” 

They had reached my cell. Ross’s breath misted over the outside of the enclosed glass, and in that moment I truly felt like I was in a cage. 

“I-I, please I’ll do anything, she has nothing to do with this.”

“You have nothing to bargain with, Miss Ruiz. I have the upper hand” He did. “...and according to what I’ve overheard, your grandmother already knows more than she ought to” 

My eyes strung in frustration, and I was standing so close to the glass every breath I took made my chest come into contact with it. 

“Get her out.”  Ross nodded to the guard on his left, a cruel smirk curved onto his face. 

I had a moment to back away from the glass cautiously, the portal reflected a perfect blue orb against the surface, and then pain laced my every nerve.

The collar buzzed, and I was dimly aware of my knees buckling beneath me as electric pulses shot up and down my arched spine. 

A loud agonized cry got stuck in my throat as I gasped against the pain in my body. 

I was rolling on the floor of the cell, my shin struck the edge of the metal bed frame, and the bad shoulder  _ ached  _ from the twisting compulsions. 

It felt as if I was panting, and horribly, I thought I could taste blood on my tongue. 

Rough hands grabbed at my spiraling form, and the images before me swum in my vision. 

The buzzing had yet to stop. 

People were yelling. It was a chaotic affair. 

“Stop! You’re hurting her!” 

“Fuckin’ jackasses, Ross when I get out of here I swear-”

My head hung unsupported as my body was carried out of the cell. 

“ _ Mija?! Mijita, LENA!”  _

Voices were swimming in one ear and out the other. 

Ross’s face appeared upside down and loomed over my form. 

From the side of my eye, I could make out the prominent glow of the portal in my hand. 

My breath shuddered out of my lungs, and my eyes followed the movement of Ross’s hand as he cupped mine in his dry palm. 

The blue reflected off the grey lines in his face ominously, and then he clenched his fingers around mine and the blue died out abruptly, the expression on his face lost to the shadows. 

Nana was gone. 

“Move her quickly and quietly, gentlemen.”

My head fell back as the shuffling men continued to carry me out of the chamber. 

I chuckled as I thought about how this was my first time on a boat. Given that it was a floating death prison, I wasn’t very excited about it. 

The electric shocks had reduced their strength, instead of white hot pulses zipping through my spine, there was a continuous heady movement of power flowing through my body. It felt as if the buzzing ministrations were paralyzing my form, but they kept me somewhat awake, my surroundings were blending together seamlessly. 

“Stop! Where are you taking her?” 

“Lena!” 

There was a dripping noise coming from the ceiling. I couldn’t focus my eyes enough, black blobs surged in and out of view. 

I could hear the yells building. The great echoed chamber bouncing the noise around and irritating my ears. 

Someone dropped my feet. My heel made a painful crunch on the hard floor, but my head was then propped against the chest of the guard behind me. 

His arms still held me beneath the armpits. Blue figures swarmed like ants in their little cages, white light behind them casting their bodies in shadows like sick puppet shows. 

Wisps of red filled the vacant spaces between black and blue. 

The shouting grew louder, there was a panic. 

A guard was lifted off their feet, and then smashed into the ground, they did not move to stand. 

“Wait, Wanda-”

The red sprouted from the wall, wailing arms like a cornered octopus. 

The guard behind me began to drag me by the arms out of the room, the tiny blue figures got smaller and smaller. 

There was a piercing scream before the massive door slid shut before me. 

It was easier to see in the bright hallway. 

Ross stood panting, one arm braced against the door, “Maximoff reacted violently, she’s subdued  but needs to be restrained, now.” 

His gaze was unflinching as he challenged the guard behind me, “I said now, Johnson, and get Langley to medical when you head back in there.”

The guard behind me, Johnson, shuffled apprehensively, his conflict apparent in the tensed silence in the corridor. 

“B-but sir, the prisoner-” He lifted my arms, as if to emphasize my limp state. A groan had been growing in my throat as the incessant pulsing throughout my neck was causing my head to swim. 

“I can handle one girl, now do as you’re ordered, Private Johnson.” 

He dumped me into Ross’s arms, and then bolted through a crack in the chamber door, the opening visible for almost a moment. 

Ross took a second to right my position, his unforgiving grip would probably leave bruises upon my arm.

He stood me up, only one hand supporting my weight as he proceeded to march me down the hallway. 

It was the same interrogation room as before. Cold metal table and chair, dull grey walls. Except this time, Ross seemed indisposed and almost flustered with the past events. 

He wasted no time in shoving me down onto the chair and then moved to stand across from me, behind the table. 

My hand shot out to steady myself against the seat, I felt myself swaying, and the cold metal under my palm helped to ground me somewhat. 

“Where are Rogers and Barnes.” Ross barked. 

I looked up at him under a curtain of dark hair. 

“Turn the collar off.” 

“You are in no position to ask me for anything-”

I snarled, my eyes closing of their own volition as the pulsing slurred my vision, “Turn the fucking collar off and then we’ll talk.”

My words were coming out in jerky intervals. 

Ross’s upper lip curled in anger, but he reluctantly pulled a sleek black remote out of his pocket. All it took was one good jab at the surface and then the pulsing electrocutions stopped. 

I could finally breathe freely again. Although I still felt woozy, the grey walls became more focused instead of a culminating mass of steel. 

Ross stood impatiently across the table, his stoic posture one of unbridled aggression that seemed to be lurking right under the surface. 

“I’m going to repeat myself once more, Miss Ruiz. Where are Rogers and Barnes?”

My nails dug into the table’s edge, my grip slick with sweat. “I don’t know.”

There was no way I’d be the one to spill. The tightening of the corner of his mouth was the only indication of his frustration. 

“We have the audio recordings, we now know about your power...a power which allows you to ‘see’ those who aren’t here.” He placed the black remote onto the table’s surface. It was a clear threat, if provoked he’d have no issue ramping up the electrical current. “Not to mention the ability of yours to create portals out of nothing.”

He was right. They had it on tape, there was no way to get around it. 

I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure out the man before me. 

There was a line of sweat on his upper lip, and his eyes seemed to dart quickly over my form. He was sizing me up, thinking, trying to evaluate the best way to get information out of me. 

He was desperate.

And desperation was something I could work with.

“I admit, it was careless of me to say that shit out in the open, I should have known better.” If I can let him see the weaknesses I want him to see then maybe I can move the conversation away from the real issues. “And yet,  I stick by my choices. So what, you know about my powers. You would have figured it out eventually, because you’re a smart man, aren’t you Secretary Ross?” I smirked, and sat back in the chair, one foot stretched out underneath the table and peaking out from the side. 

Ross narrowed his eyes, he wasn’t sure which direction I was going with this.

“Leave my family alone and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Playing this game was dangerous, especially since I didn’t exactly know the game we were playing. 

For one glorious second I thought I actually had the upper hand. 

Ross didn’t break eye contact, and his sure confidence was wearing on my easy smirk, I faltered in my cockiness. 

“You’ll tell me what I want to know because I asked  _ nicely. _ ” 

There was a dangerous film hanging over his eyes, and something about it screamed ‘don’t provoke’.

“No, you’ll leave my Nana alone, because  _ I  _ said so.” 

This was a gamble, a flip of a coin, and truly there was no way to know the odds. 

“So be it.”

The abrasive pulsing from before seemed like nothing to the world of pain I found myself in. 

My back arched off the seat, and a whispered gasp tore through my throat as the collar zapped electricity to my core. 

The free hand I had reached blindly to claw at the metal on my throat that met my flesh in violent bolts of power. 

Ross switched it off, but the buzz still sizzled over my skin and I felt like a mess of fried nerves. 

“Where are Rogers and Barnes?”

I leaned forward against the table, trying to catch my breath. The makeshift sling around my dislocated shoulder had begun to slip. 

“You’re resorting to torture now?” I said, keeping my eyes cast down away from the man in front of me. 

“Oh no, consider this...intensive questioning.”

Pain once more lanced down my back. I’m sure my hair was alive with static electricity. 

“Stop-stop” I cried out, my head thrown back, and tears leaked down to trace sticky trails down my cheek. 

“Where are they, Miss Ruiz. There’s no reason for you to protect them now.” 

There’s every reason to protect them, especially now. 

“I said stop.” I ground out between clenched teeth. 

I could feel anger burning in my body, making its way through teary eyes and tight jaw, but it was growing. 

Ross did not have control over me. 

I did. 

My face contorted in its anger, and my arm shot out over the table. 

The small portal opened to swallow the black remote. 

It fell through the blue shining portal and was lost, secretly I pictured it sinking to the bottom of the Hudson River, which is probably where it ended up.

I guess it can’t do long distance connection because the shocking agony cut off abruptly. 

Smiling recklessly up at Ross, I made another portal in front of my hand, and shot my fist through, and laughed as if glanced off the side of Ross’s chin. 

He barely dodged the blow and then stepped back swiftly, his fingers tapping the comm hidden in his ear. 

“You’re gonna call for help?” I sneered, “Not sure you can handle my ‘power’ now?”

Ross glowered, his face darkening a deep shade of red. “This false bravado of yours will only get you so far.”

The door opened behind me and out of the corner of my eye I could make out the intimidating forms of two armed guards. 

I kept my eyes on Ross even as they clamped their arms down upon my shoulders, a grimace on my face as the sensitive joint was pulled and prodded to their liking. 

“You’re just a college student. Rogers and Barnes  _ made  _ it so you were sent to prison, and now you’re a criminal, with a permanent scar on your record.” He said, fixing the loosened tie and rumpled cuff on his shirtsleeve. 

He was right in that I’m a criminal now. I make rash decisions, and then figure out how to deal with them later down the line, it’s what I do. But I acknowledge that, and I’ve grown by rolling with the punches. 

I could blame it on someone else, say Peter got me into this mess, or even that Rogers or Barnes did, but really why would I go down that road?

Rolling with the punches was my specialty, and I wasn’t gonna let Ross bully me into crying about it now. 

“Maybe so, but if I’m a criminal, then I’m gonna  _ be  _ a criminal. I’ll be a pain in your ass from here on out Ross, and when I get out of here, when undoubtedly I do, then you’ll be seeing me around.” Blowing the hair out of my face, I tried to rip my shoulders from the grasp of the guards but they were unmoveable, one even held a hardened grasp on my open hand, there was no way  to make even the smallest portal with my hand restrained, “oh and by the way, Rogers and Barnes are long gone. They got out, and they’re doing just swell.”

Anger bled into Ross’s eyes as he stared me down with a look of pure loathing. 

After one scathing look to the guards he stormed out of the interrogation room, the door blowing open in a gust of stale wind. 

Ross thought he could scare me, but I showed him. 

Wait til Peter hears about this. 

I could just picture his face as I retold these grisly stories about underwater prisons and electric dog collars.

They would make great icebreakers at parties come to think of it.

The guards behind me picked my up by the arms, and I staggered to my feet. 

I thought they would march me back to my lonely cell, but was surprised as they pulled out a wadded ball of fabric, covered in latches and belts. 

“Try and use your powers with this on, freak.” 

I was spun between them, the fabric pulled taut in front of my torso as the guards attempted to wrap it around my body. 

“What-” 

My arms were stretched outward. I let out a loud yelp as the sore joint in my shoulder was overextended. 

Dark blue lengths of fabric were wrapped around arms, and then they were twisted over my chest, straps across my body holding them immobile. 

The straightjacket restricted all movement. The straps bit angrily into my chest, and at once felt tight and uncomfortable. 

There was no way to move my arms, and so there was no way to conjure any portals. 

I’d guess the only upside would be the firm binding around my injured shoulder. 

“Is this really necessary?” I croaked. My body felt heavy, there was an urge to just let my head fall against my chest, my limbs tired from carrying my weight. 

The guards held me away from them, but my knees threatened to give out. What adrenaline I had beforehand was seeping out of me. 

Rough hands supported my by my elbows as we began to move out of the room. 

I felt jittery, like there was pent up energy surging through my bloodstream, and yet my body was  _ so  _ tired. 

The lights in the hallway burnt my eyes, but there was nothing to do but close them and stumble along blindly from the insistent shoving from the guards behind me. 

Once again we came upon the metal chamber door. 

It slid open slowly. Bright prison cells stood out against the dampened darkness of the metal 

space. 

My head drooped forward, and a layer of hair obscured my vision. 

Clint, Sam and Scott were all standing against the glass but my eyes slid over them. 

In the back of her cell, Wanda sat in a stupor. 

She too was confined in a straight jacket, and the metal collar still shone dully against her pale skin. 

Wanda had done something. I vaguely remembered wisps of red floating above me as I was carried out. The memory of a scream, and the broken body of a guard limp on the ground. 

She had done something to help me, and now look where it got her.

I waited until the cell door was closed behind me. Unceremoniously dumping me onto the hard bed, the light footsteps of the guards carried out of the chamber before I dared to say anything.

“You shouldn’t have helped me.” I sat with my back against the cold metal wall. If I took continuous deep breaths, the panic of being completely restrained could be moved to the back of my mind. 

Her voice was soft and thin, I had to strain to hear it through the thick cell walls.

“You would have done it for me.”

I had an excuse, a denying factor on the tip of my tongue but it fizzled away as soon as I thought of it. 

Wanda was right. I  _ would  _ have done it for her. I would have helped any of them.

The guilt could not be stopped from churning in my gut. She was tied up like an animal because of me. I made the rash decisions, and once again didn’t think them through. 

Sam was the one to break the silence, “Are you okay, Lena?” 

Am I okay? No not really.

“I-” My voice cracked, and shameful tears began to pool in the corners of my eyes. “I shouldn’t have--I made a mistake, guys.” 

There was no getting around it. I made a choice and it backfired. 

“Lena-”

“No, let me finish.” I sniffled, “I'm a bad person, I don’t think shit through, and-and then people get hurt because of me. I wanna say that I thought this all through, but really I just went with my gut, Germany, 

joining you guys, finding Pet-my friend, it was all ‘doing’ not ‘thinking’. I knew my Nana was in trouble and so I acted..and now people got hurt because of me.” 

“Lena, but you’ve talked about your choices, about how you’re proud to stick by your morals, right?” Clint asked. "Ross hurt you, he's making choices that actively torture, and  _hurt_ people. He's a bad person, how can you even  _attempt_ to put yourself in the same category? You're good, Lena. So, so good."

There were tears leaving sticky trails down my cheeks, and I had no way to wipe them. I tried to maneuver my shoulder, but the jarring movement sent a dull ache through my bones. 

I was tired. So tired of the pain and the emotional duress. 

“I-thanks Clint...I  _ am  _ proud about why I decided to fight, but… I don’t know, I’m just mad that it didn’t go as I had planned. Do you think I _wanted_ to end up in prison with you, Barton?” 

Clint chuckled, and it was a welcome warmth that eased my nerves. 

Maybe I had made rash decisions, but there was so way to go back on them now. 

Live in the moment, think about the now, Lena.

“God, I’m sorry I’m such a mess” My nose was congested and I sounded very nasally, “ You know, getting electrocuted really puts a damper on things.”

Laughing at it makes it better. Not great, but definitely better. 

“ Sometimes, the decisions we make don’t pan out the way we want them to, but...right now? You’ve got a support system, and  _ nobody  _ here blames you for your choices.” Sam sounded sincere, he always gave the best advice. 

“Yeah, Lena, you’re literally a college kid, you’re supposed to make crappy choices and then regret them the morning after.” Scott piped in. 

I laughed, “Usually my decisions were more like ‘let’s get hammered the night before my midterm’ and less ‘comit international treason with Captain America’ so, yeah”

“Eh, tomato-tomahto”

The laughter died out gradually, and once again we sat in companionable silence. 

I cleared my throat, wanting to get this off my chest before it was too late. 

“Wanda, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” 

Although I was grateful for her support, it made me uncomfortable.. I couldn’t live with myself if I actively made choices which affected others. If I was going to do something, I wanted it to affect only me. 

“I am in control of my own choices, Lena. I don’t use my powers lightly, I know how much damage I can create.” 

Wanda had a power even I did not understand. 

She continued in her soft accented voice “I've acted rashly before, and I am still working through the guilt. It is not an easy thing to do, but just know that it take time, Lena. I am here for you, if you need me.” 

To think that I expected to drown in isolation within this prison, or even fight a battle not knowing if I was welcome or not...and I ended up with a gathering of people willing to support me. 

It’s strange to think of how the world works. 

I had Peter and my Nana back home, but it was still hard. I didn’t  _ have  _ to feel like the caretaker, or be the worrier for our little family, but it was a role I had trouble shaking. 

What I had to come to terms with is that now I had the chance to step back and allow others to help me through. There was no reason to go it alone.  

They made their own choices...and so did Peter. 

Conversation stopped as the massive metal doors slid open once more. 

What did Ross want now?

He entered alone. With a composed air, he approached my cell directly, his eyes flickering over the neighboring inmates with disinterest. 

In his hand he held a thin tablet, but the screen was too dark to see its contents. 

Ross analyzed my position, the straight jacket and the curled posture, and adorned an approving glint in his eyes. 

“Back already?” Called Clint, the probing question echoing around the room. 

Eyes darted toward Clint before clenching the tablet between wrinkled fingers. Ross read the statement quickly, before meeting my confused gaze. There was the smallest hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

“Unfortunately, during the attainment and questioning of Mrs. Valentina Ruiz, she suffered a heart attack and was no longer able to answer to the suspected affiliated crimes of aiding and sheltering a wanted criminal.”

The color drained from my face. I must have heard him wrong.

“No, she-Nana-did none of those things.”

Ross delivered his lines without flinching, “Isn’t it true, Miss Ruiz, that you acted outside of the law, namely the Sokovia Accords, by working as a vigilante within New York City and Germany? And, were you not living with Valentina Ruiz during this time?”

“Yes-”

Ross shook his head, his eyebrows raised in mock incredulity.

He paused as he turned to go, the tablet clicked off and held to his side. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Ruiz, but in your line of work, it was expected sooner or later.”

No, no. 

Oh, God. 

What did I do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translation:
> 
> mija/mijita: my daughter  
> que es eso: What is that/this  
> no te preocupes: do not worry  
> por favor: please  
> estoy bien: I am okay  
> el chico esta seguro: the boy is safe  
> Nada: nothing  
> Te quiero mucho: I love you so much
> 
> Thank for all the wonderful comments and kudos!  
> How will Lena deal with losing her Nana?  
> Will Lena check in on Peter again? or Steve and Bucky?  
> How will she react to Tony when he comes to visit?


	10. Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena spirals.  
> Tony comes for a visit.  
> Steve and Bucky deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok I'll get back to normal Friday posting soon I'm just super busy with school rn.
> 
> This chapter was fun and tricky to write!   
> I'm excited for Steve and Bucky to come back in, and don't worry, Peter won't be gone for long.
> 
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

There was nothing.

It felt like flipping the channels on a faulty radio line. Static numbed my brain. 

And yet, I continued to try again and again. Hit the box and the station will reconnect. Isn’t that how it worked?

Nana’s face was a bright beacon held in my mind. 

Every time I thought of her, the same picture was brought to mind. 

Curling hair roped and tangled in a bun atop her head, her scarlet lips encased by smile lines, and dark intelligent eyes that always seemed to  _ know  _ what you were up to. 

That was my Nana. 

Now, when I conjured that image, the static nothingness greeted me with a cold clasp of the hand. 

Nana was dead. 

The straight jacket cocooned my arms to my body, and was suffocating as I laid back onto the hard prison cot. 

My eyes would spring open in sudden intervals as I’d think of Nana, wishing _hoping_ that a vision of her would appear. Yet, I continued to come up against a solid wall of mental static. 

The past hour had been torture. 

Ross had left soon after his declaration of her death, a toxic gleam in his eye as the metal chamber doors slid shut behind him. 

Everything had slipped into a blur of grey before me eyes. 

I tried to break down what had happened in the past 24 hours, but it was almost too much to process. 

Images flickered in my brain. Arriving in Germany, the hotel room, the airport, Clint, fighting, Peter dodging hits, War Machine, Stark, and pain. 

Was it worth it?

_ That  _ was what I kept recycling. Was everything worth it? Is this what I expected? No. But would I take it back, if I had the chance? I still didn’t know the answer.

Nana was dead, and it was my fault.

But, if I hadn’t come, then would it be Peter I was mourning now? 

What it boiled down to was my distrust of Stark. Maybe I didn’t trust Peter.

I couldn't focus as I was bombarded with thoughts and sounds. Stark's face kept popping up unwanted before my eyes. 

Stark was the catalyst.

The big boom that sent the whole structure tumbling down over our ears. 

Yeah, it could have happened eventually. Ross and his Accords, they would have followed Peter and I everywhere. It would have been like a target on our backs as we tried to do our superhero shit back in Queens. 

They would have caught up with us eventually.  

IF Ross had caught us, caught Spider-Man and Blaze, then we would’ve gotten away with a slap on the wrist. Maybe a night in a cell, but then we’d be on our way. We wouldn’t be  _ free, _ but we’d be together. 

Peter was safe. Or I hoped he was. As much as I didn’t trust Stark, I could believe he wouldn’t rat Pete out to Ross. 

This whole thing was personal for Stark. The more I thought about it, the less it actually was about the Accords. The more it appeared to be about a broken team that needed mending. 

Steve and Bucky were on one side, and I just hadn’t figured out why Stark had mounted himself as the opposition. 

The Accords were still important, they weren’t the main deal, but they were the beginning of it. 

I held by my position, the Accords would never rule me. Letting Ross dictate who I can and can’t save was the absolute worst result. 

Any way I could keep myself true, keep my powers from being  _ used,  _ I was okay with. 

The last 24 hours had changed my life. 

Ross knew who I was, the government knew who I was, particularly  _ what  _ I was. 

Thinking I could go back to Queens and fight with Peter after this was a faulty dream. 

I couldn’t afford to keep the apartment. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to finish my degree. 

We’d get out of here somehow. I had to trust that Clint, being a super spy in his time, had some kind of trick up his sleeve. Cap wouldn’t let us rot in here. I briefly met the guy, but I felt I could rely on him not to abandon us. 

I had to sell the apartment, move out of New York, maybe change my name? 

The first step I took outside this place would be the first one on the run. 

I could humor myself with the idea that in a couple of years Ross would set me out on probation.

Super girl, on super lock down. 

But the idea of ever being alone again, was out the window. 

I’d have a trail for the rest of my life, and there was no real way to wrap my head around that. 

Negativity was a constant state of mind. 

Thinking about Nana was too painful. The bland static where her image should be was a rude awakening, but I couldn’t make myself  _ really  _ come to terms with her death. 

I had to see it. See the report, the place, anything. 

Static wasn’t enough for me. 

Rolling onto my side, my lower back ached from the hard bed. 

I’d heard Scott working out earlier, he said he was doing jumping jacks. I laughed, said It would've been nice to join in if I had my arms. 

The dislocated shoulder didn’t hurt as much. It was a numbness that spread over the area, but the painful pulses stopped as soon as the joint popped back into place. DIY Medical care was now one more line on my less than impressive resume. 

My eyes clenched shut again, looking for Nana was a self inflicted pain that I didn’t think I could stop.

Thoughts jumped back and forth, Nana to out right panic, and then back again. 

I pictured Nana cooking, flour on her yellow apron, wooden spoon in hand with red manicured nails looped loosely around the handle. She swayed to the song on the radio. 

It was like a jarring hit to the head. As if I was rubbing sand in my eyes and then attempting to see. There was grainy nothingness when I tried to find my Nana. 

She was gone and I was alone. 

Peter’s face sprung into my mind like a breath of fresh air. 

I had Peter and Aunt May. I had going to Mr.Delmar’s place and ordering the same sandwich every afternoon. I had walks in central park. 

Everything was okay for a moment, until it came crashing back down again. 

I didn’t have those things anymore. I was a criminal. Illegal. 

I wished I could press my palms into my eyes until I saw red. 

Was it worth it?

At least Peter was safe, he was at home. 

How could I tell him we couldn’t be together any more? 

Pete was my little brother, in all senses of the word. I couldn’t afford to lose him, losing him would break me. But knowing that he was out there and  _ safe,  _ then I could live. I could breathe. 

It all depended on Stark. 

Fucking Stark. 

Peter basically worshipped the ground he walked on. Stark held Peter’s life in his hands. He could’ve given him to Ross, maybe he did. 

Or Stark was just keeping Peter on the backburner, waiting for the right moment to call in loyal help. 

Peter needed me. 

My eyes were already closed, and pain pinched between them, a headache was steadily growing. 

I had to check. I just needed to see him for a moment. 

An image of Peter formed in my mind. Messy bed head, loose sweats, there was the wrinkle of a sheet stamped into his cheek, and he had a bright pale tan on his wrist from his watch. 

It brought a smile to my face, and with it, a fuzzy picture forming in my mind. 

_ Sun filtered in through the open window. A light breeze rustled the papers piled on the kitchen table. There was a bowl with a crust of white film on the bottom. Breakfast cereal.  _

_ Peter sat at the table.  He wore a long sleeve grey shirt, and it bunched in haphazard clumps of fabric around his small form. His face was out of view, head hanging down, and his fingers picked at a worn bracelet on his arm.  _

_ “Peter?” Called a voice. Birds were chirping outside, but the sounds of busy traffic and honking cars was faint in the distance. “ I said, do you want one?” _

_ Aunt May walked into the frame. Her hair was loose, pooling on her shoulders over a striped shirt. Her glasses were slightly tilted to the left. The spatula in her hand glistened with oil.  _

_ Peter didn’t respond, but his head did lift from its stupor, and his fingers tapped a jerky rhythm on the table cover. _

_ “A grilled cheese? It’s all bread, and cheese...everything a teenage boy is supposed to love?” May moved closer, a hand reaching out to touch Peter’s shoulder, but then stopping an inch away, “Peter, please, just eat something.” _

_ His face flickering in discomfort. Blunt nails scraping gently against the table. “I’m just-I’m not hungry.” _

_ May’s face softened, and she sat smoothly in the chair across from him.  _

_ “Have you heard from Lena?” _

_ Peter faltered, and obvious conflict warred in his brown eyes.  _

_ He hadn’t heard from me, no.  _

_ “Yeah-Yeah. I have.” He lied, a tight lipped smile on his face, “She’s mourning, you know? Said she wanted some time alone.” _

_ Oh, Pete. In his way, he was alone too.  _

_ Aunt May hummed, and placed the greasy spatula onto the table. Her bony arms came up to embrace Peter, and his head tucked gently into the curve of her neck. “How are you, Peter? I know you were close to Valentina too. You and Lena were always bouncing between the two of us. I’m sure neither of you got tired of double dinners thanks to Valentina and I.” She laughed, but there was a wobble to her lip that wasn’t there before.  _

_ Peter turned his face, resting the side of his head against her shoulder, and my heart ached for him.  _

_ His eyes looked bleary. Watery film glided over the brown irises, but he roughly rubbed at them until the skin turned puffy and red underneath. _

_ The touch of a darkening bruise was forming along his hairline.  _

_ “Mrs.Ruiz was the best cook.”  _

_ May clapped him on the back softly, a grin tugging at her lips but she too was blinking away tears.  _

_ Peter sat up, a smile tugged at his mouth, and his eyes strayed to the open window.  _

_ New York kept on moving like a rushing river. If you got stuck, the bustling water would swipe you along sooner or later.  _

_ Dark eyes looked over rooftops and busy streets. Strength surged in their depths. Peter took in a deep breath. He was meant to be out there.  _

_ “When you talk to Lena, tell her she’ll always have a home with us” Aunt May stood and grabbed the spatula in a dainty hand. It left a stan of oily butter behind on the table top. She squeezed Peter’s shoulder, and he lightly squeezed back as she moved into the kitchen.  _

_ A little bit of the sadness crept back into his eyes as he nodded at May’s retreating form.  _

_ The bright glare from the window turned his eyes honey gold, but he shielded them in shadow. The leather bracelet on his wrist was frayed and his fingers picked at it relentlessly. It was tattered, barely hanging on by a braided line.  _

_ His dry bottom lip caught between his teeth, and I thought I could hear a slight sniffle, a catching of breath.  _

_ “I’m so sorry, Lena.” _

A sigh hissed from between my teeth, and my eyes opened gradually as if waking from a feverish dream. 

Peter’s slouched form was etched in my mind.

My brain felt like it was malfunctioning. Images flickered quickly, thoughts and feelings swirling in a cacophony of confusion. 

Nana, Peter, Aunt May, their faces moving too fast to catch. 

Peter blamed himself. He was hurt, he felt alone. Stark really hadn’t told him where I was. Aunt May knew nothing, all Pete could do was lie. Make something up, but also try not to drown in the stress from the past day. 

If I knew him, he would be a little ball of overthinking, anxiousness by now. Yet, I knew, we'd somehow get through this. 

Peter knew things were different. Going to Germany had changed everything, but it hadn’t changed enough to split us apart. We’d always be best friends. 

If I focused more on Peter, then I wouldn’t have to think about Nana. 

The feelings were locked away. I had carefully bricked them up in my mind, brick by crumbly brick. It was not foolproof.  I could feel it, the chinks and holes in the wall. One slip and it could come tumbling down. The fall would ruin me. 

Thinking about Peter was the way to keep it together. 

We’d be together again. I’d get out of prison. Ross would drop dead someday. 

Repeat that mantra and maybe it’ll come true. 

Lurching up onto the bed I tried to sit up, but I had to catch myself against the wall. I felt unbalanced, and my back ached. 

Sweat was dried onto my forehead, but the cold metal made chills race down my spine. 

I closed my eyes, focusing on the discomfort, Peter, the prison, Ross, anything not to think of Nana. 

“Lena?” Clint’s voice was quiet.

They had tried to talk to me earlier, all of them, but I just couldn’t stomach it. Talking made it real. 

“How are you holding up?” Sam sounded more grounded, earthly, I could deal with that. 

I shrugged a full body shrug, my cheek pressed into the wall. The scabbed injury on my cheek pulled on the metal seams. “I’ve been better.”

My voice sounded drained, a shell of what it once was. 

I was just so  _ tired. _

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Clint, I had figured out, loved to be needed. He loved to be  _ there. _ And yeah I needed someone like that, someone I knew was always gonna be there to talk shit through. But right now? I either wanted to face plant into a coma, or punch my way out of incarceration.

“I-no I don’t want to talk about it.” Pause. Quickening of breath. “I feel like the moment I open my mouth I’ll break into a million pieces. I feel like glass? I don’t know.” I shrugged again, but worried my lip in between blunt teeth. 

“It’s okay to break. It’s okay, if you know you’ll still have the pieces to put yourself back together again.” Sam, ever the wise monk. 

I did have the pieces to put myself together again. I had Peter. Support. My team. 

I was just scared. What if I didn’t have the strength to do it?

“I haven’t cried. Is that weird?” My eyes stung from their dryness. I pictured them pink, like a blister. Crying is the first step to healing, right?

“Sometimes when people cry, it’s the first little chink in their armor breaking down, it’s okay to wanna keep it intact. Take it at your own pace, Lena.”

I sighed. Everything was a metaphor. Break the wall, the dam, the armor. 

But it’s easier to picture pain as a  _ thing  _ rather than an all consuming mass. 

“We’re here for you, if you need the support, or a hand, or anything, okay?” How did Clint go from nightmare to daydream in the span of a day. When we got out of here I’d have to get him a gift or something. 

“I-Thanks. I think I just need...time.” I sounded small. 

Peter said I needed time. He said I was in mourning. Maybe I was. Maybe I just can’t recognize that part of myself yet. 

I mourned for my parents in anger. I felt like this was something completely different. 

We sat in companionable silence. Wanda was quiet. Clint and Sam would trade quips here or there. Scott would hum on and off, switching songs like a faulty radio signal. 

Pulling my cheek away from the wall I winced as a part of the scab was torn open, and it stuck to the metal like a horrible tack. Darkened brown on one side, but slick bright red on the other. 

I tensed as movement reverberated through the cell.

The prison door was opening. 

“Someone’s coming.”

Casual footsteps filtered through the space, nothing like the explosive stomping of the guards. 

In stepped the last person I expected to see. 

Stark swept a calculating look over the prison cells. Taking it all in with a wary eye.

Dressed in black, he too had a sling over one side of his body. The purple bruise on his face accentuated the shadowed puffiness under his eyes and the gaunt shape to his cheeks. 

Stark looked exhausted. 

My eyes followed him. The telltale skip in his step and the proud jut of his chin not lost on the cautious gleam in his dark eyes. 

He should be cautious. What do they say about cornered dogs?

Someone started to clap and it made me jump. My heart beating in my chest a little too fast.

“The futurist, gentlemen! The futurist is here!” Clint’s voice echoed in the hall, larger than life, “He sees all. He knows what’s best for you, whether you like it or not.” 

Stark stood still for a second, then the life seemed to seep back into him suddenly.

“Give me a break, Barton. I had no idea they’d put you here. Come on.” He actually sounded apologetic. 

“Yeah well you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony.” There was a razor sharp edge in Clint’s voice.

“Yeah, but not some super-max floating ocean pokey. You know, this place is for maniacs. This is a place for-”

“Criminals?” I winced, the building tension almost thick enough to touch “ Criminals, Tony. Think that’s the word you’re looking for. Right? That didn’t used to mean me, or any of the others. But here we are.”

“Because you broke the law.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t make you. Alright, you’re all grown up. You’ve got a wife and kids.”  Clint kept that secret, and told it in confidence. If Ross didn’t know about Clint's family, he knew now. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you think about them before you chose the wrong side?”

It was a low blow. A punch to the gut, like poking an already seeping wound ripe with infection. 

“You gotta watch your back with this one.” Clint shot out, a bark to his bite, the slam of palms against metal “There’s a chance he’s gonna break it.”

War Machine. The crash. Stark’s face half crazed. Flash of light and unnecessary pain. 

Stark didn’t reply, but his faint footsteps moved on through the chamber. 

“Hank Pym always said, you never can trust a Stark.” Scott never talked about his background, he held his loved ones close, kept them an arms length from the rest of us, and I respected him for it. Wasn’t I doing the same thing with Peter?

Stark barely paused, “ Who are you?” and then moved on, a muttered ‘come on’ coming from Scott in his dejection. 

Sam sounded blunt. Emotions removed. “Hows Rhodes?”

“They’re flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow. So...fingers crossed.”

Rhodes?  _ War Machine. _

“What do you need? They feed you yet?”

I scoffed, though my ears strained for every hitch in the conversation. 

“What, you’re the good cop now?” 

“I’m just the guy who needs to know where Steve went.” 

Ah, so that’s what this is about. 

“Well, you better go get a bad cop, because you’re gonna have to go all Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me.”

Stark paused, and there was a faint electrical  _ ping  _ that went off.

“Oh, I just knocked the ‘A’ out of their ‘AV’. We’ve got about 30 seconds before they realise it isn’t their equipment.”

Perfect. 

I pushed myself up from the bed, my feet stumbling toward the glass panelled wall. 

A hip jutted out to lean against the glass, and I blew a loose strand of hair from over my eyes, but it landed to tickle my nose. 

From this vantage point I could see Stark’s back, his silhouette shadowed by the bright light in Sam’s cell. 

If I stretched, I could possibly make out the curve of Sam’s elbow against the glass, but Stark stood like a dark tormentor over the scene. 

“I know where Steve is.”

He turned, and the lights from the cell blackened his face into a blur. It wasn’t until he approached my prison that his face was pushed into visibility. 

Cocked eyebrow, and brown roaming eyes. The first time he’d looked at me since entering the room. 

Stark tried to avoid looking at the collar, the straight jacket, or the rugged cut on my cheek, but his eyes would leap to them in twitchy intervals. He’d even dart a quick glance to Wanda’s cell, but a miniscule flinch would make his cheek jump, the bruise coloring the top was an ugly blue. He focused on my eyes. 

“Why should I believe what you’ve got to say?”

“Because,  _ Stark, _ at this point I don’t have much to lose….well except for one thing.”

The anger building in my chest felt like bubbling magma. Sharp exhales were going through my nose as I tried to keep it down, but every moment I stood facing this man the more the anger felt like a writhing beast almost broken from its chains. 

“Tell me you didn’t make  _ him  _ sign the Accords. Tell me that what little free will he has is still his own.” I snarled. 

Stark didn’t bat an eye. He waved a fluid arm, nonplussed “He’s a big boy. You don’t think he can take care of himself? Man, tough love-”

“ _ No.  _ No more bullshit. Tell me Peter is okay...that you didn’t uproot a fucking 15 year olds life just because you could. What ‘souvenir’ did he get from this little vacation? A cell with his name on it or Ross’s leash around his neck? Or do you just save those for your ‘friends’”

His flinch fed my anger. I wanted him upset, I wanted him to feel something. Any way for him to admit to the shit he’s done, admit he ruined our lives. 

“The kid is fine.” Stark bounced back quickly, there was nothing to suggest my words hurt him, but the circles under his eyes seemed to sink, he looked older. “I dropped him off at home. I’ve got tabs on him, nobody else but me” 

Palpable weight lifted off my shoulders. It wasn’t great but it was okay. Ross didn’t know about Peter, but Stark wouldn’t let him go. 

Ice chipped away from my eyes as I continued to stare at Stark. I knew there was a timeline, the tech would only be down for a minute more but I needed to hear it from him. 

“I just want to hear you admit it. You uprooted both me  _ and  _ Peter, and now there’s no going back. In the past day, I’ve made decisions I regret, and I realize that I’ve gotta live with them. But there’s no way in hell you get to walk away scot-free. You need to realize that the decisions you make don’t just go away when you want them to.”

“You chose to follow, I didn’t ask you to come along, pixie girl.” Stark had a guarded look, and the hand in the sling was clenched in a fist. 

“Is that why you made me that suit?” I shot back with a smug smirk. 

“The suit was for...aesthetic reasons. Just to sate some engineer’s curiosity.” He said in a flippant tone. “I’m going to want that back, by the way.”

“Oh, Sorry to say I lost it in the whole ‘prison intake process’. I’m sure Ross would be glad to box it on your way out.”

There was an awkward silence and Stark was getting fidgety. He hadn’t gotten what he’d come for. 

“Look.” He looked over his shoulder, and then toward Sam. But his gaze found mine in the end, “I was sorry to hear about your grandma, things shouldn’t have turned out that way-”

“You don’t get to talk about her, her death is on your shoulders too.”

“ _ My  _ shoulders?” Stark said incredulously. “You made your choices, you decided to go hero and get her caught in the crossfire.”

I felt tears sting in the corner of my eyes, and could taste salt on my lips. 

“I made those choices because of you!! You bullied Peter into coming to Germany. You used his hero worship against him just for your selfish gain!! He’s 15! He can’t make those types of decisions, you fucking asshole! I  _ chose  _ to come along so I could save him! God knew what you’d do to the kid!” My face felt too hot, and my hands urged to wring my hair and rub my eyes red, but they couldn’t move. 

Stark stalked toward the glass, and his breath fogged against the surface. 

“It was the right move!” He shouted, spit splatting against the misty glass, “ I-I didn’t have another option. Peter was the obvious choice! Jesus christ, he was on YouTube!! Sooner or later he would’ve gotten swept up, and aren’t you glad it was by  _ me. _ ”

“THOSE AREN’T YOUR DECISIONS TO MAKE!” Gasping breaths escaped me, and my forehead smeared against the see through wall.

“Yeah, well, someone had to do it! Someone had to do  _ something  _ to keep the team together!” Stark ran a hand through his straggled hair, and he turned away, only his side profile showing through the glass, “It was me. I put it on myself to make the tough call, and I’d do it again.”

“Would you?” I stepped back, my toes scuffing at the cement floor, “Look at your team now, Stark.”

He spun, a snarl half curled onto his lips, “You think I don’t realize my actions have consequences? That I don’t realize I’ve put this  _ kid  _ on a path that maybe I didn’t want him to go on? Well too bad, because it happened. Even you! You said it yourself, you made hard decisions that you’ve got to live with now. We’re not so different.”

Stark deflated. The pumping blood in his animated cheeks going stale until he looked almost like a ghost. 

I sank onto the bed. My head leaning back against the cold metal walls. The cold was grounding, my breath evened out. 

“Everybody makes bad decisions. Just because mine ended with blood on my hands doesn’t mean we’re anything alike.” 

He turned, his back leaning against the cell, and his shoes slid slightly on the slick ground. His head hung, and an audible sigh echoed through the chamber. 

The others had been quiet, but our shouted argument rang in the space like the shot of a cannon. 

“I made a mistake okay? I was wrong.” Stark turned back toward Sam, his back in shadow as he walked away from my prison cell, “The guy that was supposed to interrogate Barnes...just look.” 

Sam was quiet for a moment, but his silence spoke. 

“Cap is going to need all the help he can get.” Stark continued, “We don’t know each other very well..you don’t have to.”

“Look, a lot of shit has happened in the past 24 hours, shit some of us wish to take back, and some that we don’t” My thoughts turned to Clint, and the jab Stark made against his family, “I’ll tell you...but you have to go alone, and as a friend.”

I held my breath, the moment held in suspension.

“Easy. Just tell me where they went, that’s all I need.”

Stark swung his arm out wide, an open gesture. Tell me, it said, you can trust me.

My voice was swallowed by the dense walls, but he heard me, they all did.

“They’re in Siberia.”

===================================

===================================

Stark had left three hours ago. 

Not long after, Ross barged in spewing threats and proposals in order to find out what he had lost with Stark in the room, but nobody spilled. 

I laid on my back on the harsh cot. I think my bones finally got used to the rock solid mattress, the ache had gone from painful to numb in the span of an hour. 

We had been quiet. Stark’s visit had shaken us all. 

Clint I imagined thought of his family. I had no idea what he had lost, what he had given up to join Steve.

Sam, I didn’t know much about his background, but he was a loyal friend. Did he regret helping Stark?

Wanda didn’t say anything, but again her silence was like a wary storm cloud. 

Scott hummed again. It was a soft hum, reserved for daydreaming and summer days. It was nice. 

I could only handle silence for so long.

“ Do you think Stark really went to help?”

“If he didn’t I’m gonna shoot him through the fucking eye.” Clint responded wryly. 

I smothered a snort with a cough as laughter bubbled in my throat, “wow, grandpa, that was some strong language.”

Clint groaned, “ We’ve been through this twice, I’m literally only 10 years older than you. And you’re one to talk. Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to cuss?”

“10 years older is practically dead to me.” I laughed, “and oh yes she did, my mom would’ve had a conniption if she could hear me.”

“My mom couldn’t care less, she’d say ‘Scott that’s no fuckin’ way to talk to your brother.’ and then call us down for dinner.” 

All of us laughed at that. The mood instantly lifted. Whatever gloom Stark had carried in with him, had vanished. 

“No for real, please tell me Stark isn’t on some personal quest and he’s gonna go attack Steve or something.”

The laughter died down naturally. 

“Stark knows he did wrong, he’ll try and make it right.” Sam responded, a smile in his voice. 

“I keep wanting to check in you know? I could just peep in for a second, but I’m not sure I want to  _ see  _ what’s going down over there”

Clint chuckled, “If you have a weak stomach, I wouldn’t ‘peep in’, unless you like big muscled guys beating the shit out of each other?”

I paused, and pretended to think it over, “Hm, well that could be kinda hot.”

“Gross.”

“Get out of here.”

Hiccupping I sat up on the bed, and propped my body against the wall. 

“I know it’s a serious situation, but come on. We’re in some giant floaty prison for super villains, Captain America is out there fighting the world, and Iron Man just popped in for a chat. Like, where am I? Peter would get a kick out of this, my Nana too, she loves-”

I caught myself, my tongue heavy in my mouth like a weighted stone. 

The good mood draining out of me in one sweep.

“L-loved. She loved.” I choked out. “I-I”

“Hey, Lena it’s okay. Just take a deep breath, we can get through this.” Clint was a soothing break through the dense fog in my mind, and I felt myself sucking in breath like I had been suffocating. 

“Sorry, I-I, it just sprang on me. I didn’t-I don’t.” I was stammering, not sure what to say. “I’m just going to go to sleep, it’s been a long day.I-If I don’t go to sleep now then the wall will break and I don’t know if I have the strength to put it back together at this point.”

I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m sorry I ruined the moment.”

At once their voices rang out, calming supportive anecdotes that had me swooning in my bed. 

Don’t think about Nana. 

Peter is okay.

I ran through other scenarios in my mind, anything to keep the reality of her loss away. 

I couldn’t sleep. I could barely lay still, my heart felt like it was beating too fast and my face felt hot. 

There was something growing in my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if it was nausea or the overwhelming need to sob.

I let out an agitated moan, twisting onto my stomach. I felt like a caterpillar. 

“I’m gonna check on Steve and Bucky.” I huffed, trying and failing to distract myself. 

Watching super heroes fight bad guys was the perfect solution.

“Take it slow, you don’t know what you’ll find if you pull on that thread.”

But it was too late for second guesses, I’d already closed my eyes.

=====================

=====================

_ The quinjet was quiet.  _

_ A red light blipped on the console, but the cockpit was empty.  _

_ Fog parted like waves over the nose of the plane, and the window was frosted with mist from outside.  _

_ I turned, and the back door was open. No light poured from the exit, it was a black gaping maw in the aircraft.  _

_ Blinking once, I found myself in the cabin of the plane. _

_ Seats lined the walkway, but they were turned up and down in haphazard positions.  _

_ The only sound was the stir of the engine.  _

_ Medical supplies were strewn on the floor.  _

_ Flattened gauze with a dirty boot print seared into it. An inhaler. Bandages.  _

_ They left a mismatched trail through the space. Somebody was in a hurry. _

_ I let my eyes follow the mess. It trailed from under one seat to the next.  _

_ A pack of unlit matches had spilled open and as I followed their destruction I caught my gaze on a foot.  _

_ A combat boot. I tracked up the leg to the chest, the pale outline of a star glowed in the shadowed space.  _

_ “Steve?”A low voice croaked from nearby.  _

_ I spun, looking for the source.  _

_ The body was shrouded in darkness, but there was a glint of movement under the dim light.  _

_ Steve shifted forward out of the shadows. His hair was plastered to the sides of his skull, and his mouth looked drawn tight.  _

_ He wrung his hands together,and the knuckles were covered in broken scabs.  _

_ The blonde shook his head, and pinched his eyes shut before dragging his gaze over the ruined medical supplies before locking on the form before him. _

_ Bucky was laid out on a line of seats, and as he turned his face into the light I had to stifle a gasp.  _

_ Blood caked and pooled in the crevices of his chin and under his nose. It was dry now, but it seeped into the broken skin on his lips and ran into his beard.  _

_ What I thought were used bandages were crumpled pieces of bloody gauze thrown under his bench.  _

_ Steve stood shakily, a roughened hand running through his hair.  _

_ He knelt next to Bucky, an arm going out to touch perhaps, but then stopping not an inch from making contact. It hovered. _

_ “Bucky I-” He cleared his throat, and his blue eyes jumped over Bucky’s form in a panicked sort of haze, “I can’t - I don’t know what more I can do.” _

_ He shoved aside the bloodied bandages by his knees. “Nat has a safe house, she’d know what do do from here, okay pal? I just-” His head fell to his chest, the hand still hovered in uncertainty. _

_ Bucky shifted his weight, and his body came into the light.  _

_ His left arm was gone. A ruined mass of electrical wire sizzled in the space.  _

_ Jagged edges of metal dug into the seat beneath him, and he kept it far from his body.  _

_ It looked grotesque in its violent nature. It looked painful.  _

_ Bucky’s face was pale, and his eyes swept over the ragged stump before flowing to Steve.  _

_ “Natalia, yeah she can help, Stevie.”  _

_ He sounded tired, his voice soft like the wind.  _

_ “I’m so sorry” Steve gasped out, and his palm crashed against Bucky’s chest. It lifted under steady breath, and his fingers tightened in the straps of his tactical vest. “If I had known, Tony- I should have guessed this would happen, I should have been prepared-” _

_ Bucky stopped him with the gentle shake of his head, “You couldn’t have called it. It’s okay. We’ll make it through.” _

_ Steve didn’t let up his grip on Bucky’s tactical vest, and kept his eyes locked on the man before him.  _

_ “How did Stark know where to find us?” Bucky asked, his dark eyes drawn to patterns in the ceiling above him.  _

_ “Nat’s been keeping tabs on him. She says he got our location from a place off the grid, some type of supermax prison.” Steve hesitated, “She guesses that’s where they put the rest of the team. Our friends.” _

_ Bucky hummed, “Has she been able to get inside?” _

_ “Not yet, apparently they’ve got a top of the notch security system, but she’ll crack it eventually.” _

_ A twinkly filtered into Bucky’s eyes, and he lazily swung his gaze over to his friend beside him , “Eventually, huh? So what are you gonna do?” _

_ The smallest smirk blossomed in the corner of Steve’s mouth.  _

_ “I’m gonna break them out.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful comments/kudos!
> 
> What do you expect from Steve's break out mission?  
> What will Lena say to Peter when they finally get to talk?  
> Is Wanda okay?
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	11. Midnight Snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena is hungry.  
> The team faces their future as wanted criminals  
> Steve comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!
> 
> Steve is back and I'm excited.  
> Hope you like this one, thanks for reading !
> 
> I also wrote a stucky one shot called "It's Been a Long, Long Time" if you'd like to check it out. fluff/angst apartment sharing and all that. 
> 
> lead on brave readers !  
> \- Emma

My mom used to be the best cook. 

Nana used to argue otherwise, but really Mom was the best of the two. 

Every morning before school we had the same routine. 

Dad would pound on my door, oblivious to my already chiming alarm clock, he’d yell “Time to get up,  _ floja”  _ and I’d throw back the covers with all the drama I could muster. 

I’d get dressed, shove my socked feet into my worn shoes and then stagger down the hall. 

Nana and Mom would be in the kitchen, dodging and zipping over one another like an intricate dance. 

Eggs thrown in a pan, stirred by my mom. Coffee hot, and frijoles bubbling near Nana’s elbow. 

The yellow tiles on the walls would glitter under the sun from the window.

Then dad would rush in, his computer bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, the strap a bit frayed on the sides. He’d toss a couple tortillas in the microwave and shrug sheepishly as all three of us complained “ _ Ay,  _ Edmundo, tortillas are better on the stove, have I taught you nothing?”

Dad would shoot my Nana a sarcastic look, “Oh, Valentina, how could I forget when you tell me every morning?”

All of us would laugh. 

Piles of eggs and beans were thrown onto a plate, and I’d scoop it in my mouth in two gulps. 

A hug, a lipstick kiss smudged on my cheek, and we were out the door. 

Mom, Dad, and I waved as we left Nana to clean the dishes. 

It was a staple in the Ruiz family life. 

When my parents died, Nana and I tried to recreate the same magic every morning. 

I’d get up a bit earlier, always waking before my alarm went off, maybe waiting for the wake up call I knew would never come. 

Nana and I would do the dance in the kitchen, not as well and she and my mom could, but well enough. 

My eggs always turned out runny. 

We cooked the tortillas on the stove, and they did taste better that way. 

Instead of a hectic drive through the New York streets, I took the subway. 

I’d always walk onto the terminal with a red smudge of lipstick on my cheek, but I loved it. 

Now? Now I gotta do it on my own. 

It may be silly, but that was one of the things I was going to miss most. 

Peter used to join us for breakfast. He’d just show up bleary eyed in the morning, shirt half untucked and his backpack open, spilling loose leaf paper in the hallway behind him. 

He can’t cook for shit, but to Nana, he was another hungry mouth to feed, and she embraced him like a starving puppy she found on the side of the road. 

We used to walk to the metro together. Laughing, and bumping shoulders as we tried to rub the matching lipstick stains from our reddened cheeks. 

I can’t go home anymore, not even Peter could help me keep the breakfast routine alive. 

Who am I kidding, if we tried to cook in the same kitchen together it would probably blow up in our faces. 

Maybe when I’m out in the world again, I could portal in for breakfast and then portal back out to my secret hideaway. 

Or was that too risky?

I don’t know how these things work. 

My stomach growled. 

I scrunched up my face in concentration, trying to calm the raging bubbles of hunger in my body. 

Sighing loudly, I continued to kick my feet up and down off the end of the cot. 

That was the type of entertainment I had to rely on. 

The hard bed hurt my head, the lack of a pillow really hitting home. 

My feet dangled off the sides, but the metal frame dug into the back creases of my knees. 

Sometime I would sway from side to side, and the straightjacket would hold me tight like I was in a cocoon. 

That could be fun for a couple of minutes. 

My stomach growled again, loudly. 

Scott groaned in his nearby cell, and grumbled about dying of starvation. 

Thinking back on it, I hadn’t eaten since the morning before Germany. 

That was like a day ago, I’d never gone a day without eating, huh.

“Is this a new form of psychological torture? Is starvation the new shock collar?” I huffed. 

My hair was knotted behind my head, and hung in lank strands over my forehead. 

I rolled my head to the side, looking over the metal toilet and the little stool sat in the corner.

“How about a shower? Is my straight jacket waterproof?”

Scott laughed at that one. “Yeah, what she said.”

I cracked a smile, and kicked my legs out away from the bed, but my heel hit down hard against the ragged bottom of the cot. 

“Ouch, fuck!” I tried to lift my leg high enough to see if I got cut, but wasn’t exactly flexible enough to see it.

My head flopped back onto the bed, and I sighed in agitation. 

“I’m still hungry.” 

Clint butted in, “They usually wait to starve us out until we’re a week in. Get us comfortable with the routine, and then take it away, kinda deal.” 

He hadn’t talked much since Stark left.

“Yeah, well you would know, Barton.” Sam said slyly. 

I chuckled, the familiar conservation made my apprehension lessen. Stark hadn’t left on the best terms, there was still a concentrated tension lying underneath everything, but I thought we were all doing a good job in working around it.

They were supportive of the decision, to tell Stark where Steve and Bucky were. 

Sam would’ve told him not long after, if I hadn’t done it first. 

Stark had seemed sincere. At least when we had seen him last. 

The vision of Steve and Bucky played in my mind like a faulty movie reel. 

I had no idea what had happened, what Stark had done. 

Focusing on the worn bloody mess on Bucky’s face, or the massacred metal limb was not something I wanted to do. 

Don’t think about it, and don’t torture yourself about what could have been.

I had yet to tell the others about what I’d seen. I knew I had to, but I was scared about what they’d think. 

Maybe Stark didn’t do it, maybe he wasn’t the one to blame. The guilt I felt pooling in my gut needed an outlet somewhere. 

The others would surely put 2 and 2 together.

They'd find Stark to be the culprit, but what if that wasn’t the case?

Stark was shoved out of my mind as I was pulled back into the conversation. 

Clint was arguing with Sam about whether or not Ross was going to feed us or if he simply forgot we were here all together. 

“What do you think, Lena?” 

“I think there’s no way Ross forgot about us, he’s just an asshole.”

Their laughter made everything better, the air felt lighter when everybody was in a better mood. 

I’d tell them soon enough, I just had to find the right moment. 

“When I was in prison, we had an intense meal schedule” Scott said smoothly. 

We all paused, confused. In no way had I connected Scott with prior prison time.

“You were in prison??” I said incredulously. The things I knew about Scott I could count on one hand.

Before I could question him further, the big chamber door slid open. 

A lone guard walked in, pushing a wobbling cart before her. 

She stopped in the middle of the room. No heavy gear, or firearm that I could see. There was a baton clipped to her belt and her black hat sat low over her eyes. 

Not looking up into the room, the guard simply bent to remove plates of food from the cart. 

I guess Ross got tired of our whining. 

Walking toward the far wall, her shoes made quiet squeaks on the cement floors. 

The trays were slid under a notch in the glass, each making a sloshing scratch as they were shoved into the cell with us. 

As soon as everybody got their food, the guard booked it out of the space, the swing of her tight ponytail bounced as the door slammed shut behind her. 

I heaved myself into a sitting position, and then jumped to my feet, the growl of my stomach dying out just as I laid eyes on the food on the plate. 

“What the hell is this?” I whined. 

The tray was separated nicely. Canned corn in one corner, chicken thigh, dinner roll, and sliced potatoes. 

Sam laughed, “What? Not gourmet enough for you?” 

“I can’t even fucking eat it because my arms are strapped to my body, Sam.” 

I sighed, and then plopped back down onto my bed, the tray left discarded by the glass. 

“If I’m gonna be in prison, at least give me some stale bread or moldy cheese. Make it authentic, come on.”

Wanda and I were stuck. No way to eat, and the other guys got to chow down without us. 

My gaze moved to the ceiling, tracing over the slight lines in the cement. “Can Wanda and I get a protein shake or something?” Silence. 

The others ate quietly. 

“I mean at least you guys get to eat.” I baited, waiting for a response, but when none came I heaved another sigh and rolled onto my side, the dead weight of my arm pressing into my stomach, “I would  _ kill  _ for one of my Nana’s home cooked meals right now.” 

My eyes popped open in surprise. I had spent the last hours ignoring or trying to ignore the reality that Nana was gone. Talking, and thinking about cooking had made it slip out, and it didn’t hurt as much as I expected it to. 

The wall was still up, I wasn’t going to confront any of this until I saw it with my own eyes, but tip toeing around it by gushing over Nana’s cooking was something I could do just fine. 

I think the others were surprised as well, they weren’t sure if they should push it or move on like nothing happened. 

Clint broke the silence, “She’s a good cook?”

Present tense. 

I beamed, picturing my Nana stirring coffee with one hand and cracking eggs with the other, “The best. Breakfast was always my favorite, it still is. I’d wake up to the smell of eggs and sausage on the stove. Nana would sometimes put slices of fried tortilla in the eggs and it was  _ so  _ good, Clint. Then top it off with a bit of green chile and-wow-  _ delicioso.”  _ I’d kiss my fingers if I could. 

Closing my eyes, Nana’s image pressed into the backs of my eyelids. Manicured hands still perfect even covered in raw egg and oil. Greasy fingerprints would be pressed into the side of my cup when she'd set it down on the table. 

“That does sound good,” Clint said, the clunk of chicken bones sounding in the space, “But Breakfast is  _ alright _ , I’m more of a midnight snack of cold leftovers kind of guy.” He laughed, “Laura, would always make the best lasagna and then put it in the fridge with little notes on the seran wrap for when I got up at 2am.”

“Laura? Your wife?”

“Yeah” He said wistfully, “She’s the best. Taking care of the kids, the dogs, the house...the whole thing and she still has that killer smile on whenever my ass makes it back home.”

It was nice talking about Clint’s family. He must miss them. With him being an Avenger, I could only guess at how hard life was between the constant danger, and the long trips. Having to be away from your family is horrible. 

Clint was a good guy. What little he could do to keep his family safe, he did it. 

He picked who he told about them, and me being one of those few trusted people meant the world. 

Something else had been weighing on my mind. 

“Stark shouldn’t have outed them like that.” I said with bated breath. 

Stark was a sore spot for all of us.  He’d left the prison, but embedded a stake of tense anxiety in our chests. 

“Well, we all know the asshole’s not great at thinking before doing.” 

There was a shuffle of feet and the sudden crash of a tray being tossed onto the floor. The resounding clatter echoing loudly. 

Ross knew about Clint’s family now, and he was in no position to keep them safe from here. 

Who knew what would happen, Clint had seen what happened to Nana-

No. Don’t think about  _ that. _

“Hopefully, Tony did something right for once and helped Cap and Barnes.” Clint spat. 

I paled, I still hadn’t told them about the vision. Bucky covered in crusted blood, and Steve with blooming purple bruises under his eyes. 

But still, I didn’t know  _ for sure  _ that Stark was the one who did it. There was a chance I was wrong, maybe I heard them wrong. 

“Yeah about that-” I started cautiously, but Scott cut in before I had the chance to continue. 

“My mom used to make the best pancakes. Like the fluffiest, softest pancakes ever. Man-” He sighed, “those were the days.”

Give it to Scott to butt in at the worst time. 

Scott continued in a whining voice, “It was so hard getting used to prison food last time, and now I have to do it all over again. I mean, this is better food than before, but still.”

“I’d definitely get used to it fast, tic-tac. No knowing how long we’ll be stuck in here.” Sam responded. The scrape of a tray along the cement floor made my eye twitch, it was like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Actually guys, Steve’s on his way here to bust us out, so I wouldn’t worry about the food too much” I spilled out in a rush. There, it was in the open, no more secrets. 

“Did you just say Captain America was on his way to break us out of supervillain prison?” Scott said excitedly. 

I nodded nonchalantly, “Oh yeah, he’s gonna be crackin’ skulls and takin’ names.” 

Nervously, I bit at my lower lip. Maybe they could wait to find out about the whole, ‘Stark may have fucked up the mission’ thing until later. 

Too bad Sam wasn’t having any of it. 

“You ‘checked’ in on him didn’t you?”

“Hm-hm” 

“Did they get out alright? Was Stark with them?” 

“Um, yeah- you could say that Stark was probably with them at some point.” I winced, hating the sound of my own voice in my ears. 

“Okay, kid. What happened?” That was Clint. He sounded both tired and alert, with was confusing in itself. 

I paused, trying to think of the best way to explain what I had seen. The looming presence of Ross listening in on every word didn’t help matters.

“Steve and Bucky both made it out and they’re-it didn’t go  _ exactly  _ as planned, but I think the main mission went okay.” I hesitated, “Maybe we should wait for Steve to explain before I say anything else. I don’t wanna get it wrong, and plus we’ve got ears on us at all times.”

Don’t want to give Ross too many details. 

“...but you just told Ross that Steve was coming to break us all out.”

Huffing, I turned to sit up against the cell wall, knotted hair stuck to my forehead. 

God, the first time Captain America saw me I was covered in blood and ready to fight, and the next time I haven't showered and am probably still covered in blood. Nice. 

“But now Ross gets to sit around not knowing when he’s gonna be attacked by Steve. I wanna see him sweat” I laughed. 

“I think that is a good idea, let Ross stew in his paranoia.”

Her lilting voice was soft, but strong nonetheless. 

“Wanda!” I shouted. We hadn’t heard from her in hours. “Are you okay?”

Wanda smiled tiredly in her cell, “Yes, Lena. I’m doing fine. How are you?” 

She sounded a bit sarcastic, but I couldn’t blame her. 

“When we get out of here, I’m giving you the biggest hug.”

“Wanda, it’s good to hear your voice.” Clint was sincere, “We were getting worried there .”

I wasn’t sure what had caused Wanda to retreat into her shell. 

It was hard to picture the girl I knew from the battlefield with the girl imprisoned next to me. 

I just hoped she was alright. 

“Reall, Wanda...are-are you doing alright?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to spook her. 

She took a moment to answer, weighing the right thing to say and how to say it. 

“This place...it brings back bad memories. Past mistakes, pain, loss, my-my brother Pietro...hellish things that I’d hoped never to go through again.” Wanda coughed out in a ragged gush of words, things she’d kept quiet about in the past hours. “We were treated like lab monkeys, like we were there to do tricks.”

A chill worked its way up my spine. I had no idea what Wanda had gone through in her life, but the hollowness that seeped into her tone said little of the pain she had endured. 

Wanda had a brother? 

“Oh, kid.” Clint sighed, “I didn’t even think-”

“It doesn’t matter now, Clint.” Wanda said tiredly, “I am glad you got me out of Stark’s prison, even if Vis was the one holding me there.”

There was no doubt that Wanda was a very powerful individual. Did Stark lock her up before she was arrested with us? 

I didn’t know, but it wasn’t hard to assume Stark wasn’t happy having her on the opposing team.

“After this, none of us have to be locked up again, we’ll make it out together.” I stuttered, trying to show my support in little words, tiptoeing around issues I knew not to push. 

“Lena, after ‘this’, we’ll be on the run, looking over our shoulders will have to be second nature.”

Clint laid it down in strict lines, there was no room to nudge his statement. Sam huffed in agreement from his cell.

“Yeah but, there’ll still be some down time, some place for us to be  _ together  _ and heal from everything that’s happened.”

“Easier to catch the criminals when they’re all in the same hideout.” 

“But, Sam-”

“If they catch you a second time, Lena, it’ll be even worse. They’d skip over the straightjacket and go straight to super powered holding cell.”

“But-”

Whatever I was going to say died on my tongue. 

They were right. 

The closet dream I had went up in smoke. 

I had no idea what I was getting into. 

Being on the run was painted in my mind like some twisted dark fantasy. 

Danger, excitement. I pictured myself as an undercover vigilante, fighting in the shadows while juggling online classes at NYU. 

I cringed, the dreams I had in my mind seeming childish and wrong now. 

Peter would have to make it without me. I thought, I really thought, I could pop in on him. Stay the night once a week, then continue to do what criminals do. Now it was a joke. 

No falling back on Peter, or Nana. Maybe our old apartment was already on the market. 

I had nowhere to go anyway. 

I’d be alone. 

“You’re scaring her.” Wanda called out softly, her voice like a blanket over my anxious form.

Clint and Sam both exhaled, I made out the sounds of light footsteps pacing on cement floors. 

“Hell, when have any of us done things the easy way?”

A smile quirked in the corner of my mouth, the fear easing away bit by bit. 

“Look, we should stick to the normal rules for ‘runaways’, but knowing Cap, and now knowing you, Lena, those rules mean jack shit.” Sam laughed, a shake to his head as he sat on the edge of his cot. 

Maybe Steve and I had more in common than I thought. 

Clint groaned in mock agitation, “Great, this means I’ll have to keep the feds off our backs  _ and  _ find ways to keep the kid entertained.”

The kid being me, I was sure. 

I wasn’t going to be alone after all. 

“What about the whole ‘criminals in the same hideout’ thing?” I teased. 

“Yeah that’s still true.”

“And how about getting caught a second time will be worse?” 

“That’s still also true” Scott called out in a singsong. 

“We know the odds, doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time while we fight ‘em.” Clint shot back. He was rebutting the exact argument he had given me minutes ago, typical. 

Wanda piped in, “We’ll make a game of it.” 

I chuckled, picturing Clint, Wanda and I back to back, keeping score of the tails we’d lost throughout the day. 

I would probably lose. 

“Running from the government with you people sure will be interesting.” Scott said slowly, his fingers tapping an irregular beat onto the metal walls. 

“You can say that again.” Sam sighed, no doubt pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Running from the government with you people-”

Scott was cut off as we all laughed. 

A thought made me stop short, my breath hitching in my throat. 

“Clint! What about your kids?” I asked, the edge of panic palpable to everyone in the room.

The laughter died, a silence taking over the space that was stifling. 

“We’ll just...cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

It was a scary thought. When we escaped, would Ross take it out on Clint’s family? He surely couldn't stoop that low.  Could he?

Clint paced the edges of his cell slowly, his fingertips grazing the surrounding walls, making a vague gliding noise. 

“When I was locked up for a while...yeah, I missed my kid everyday, but she was okay, she had a good support system with her. That’s what made the difference.”

My eyebrows shot up. Scott was sincere, his truth laid bare. 

“You have a kid?” Clint sounded just as surprised as I was. 

Scott sighed wistfully, the tapping rhythm of his fingers like a heartbeat, “Oh yeah, Cassie’s the best. The weirdest kid I’ve ever known, and I love her to pieces.” 

Clint’s kids had a support system. What he had said about his wife, I knew she’d be there for them, and had been there for them this entire time. 

Yeah it’ll be hard, but hopefully they’ll get through it. 

If worse comes to worse, I can be the untraceable facetime we all need. 

“-She’s the kind of girl who's into ugly clowns instead of princesses.”

Weirdly, considering Scott, that made sense.

Huh, the more you know.

===============================

===============================

“Burger and fries, hands down.”

“I could go for pizza.”

“Those are so  _ generic,”  _ I whined, “You guys are so boring, Wanda and I will pick, we didn’t get to eat anyway”

I laid on the cot, my head hanging off the edge, hair swinging behind me and touching the floor. 

If I could see myself, my face would probably be dark red. 

The food argument had been going on for the last hour.

At some point, between Clint and Scott naming their favorites types of pizza, a guard had been sent in to shout and bang his baton against the glass. 

A show of aggression or annoyance from Ross, who knew. 

Steve still hadn’t shown up, and that guard was all the evidence I needed to suggest Ross was spiraling just a little bit, and it was sweet.

After talking about being on the run together, the conversation moved more to the present.

We couldn’t decide what drive through to hit after we were busted out.

My stomach growled just thinking about it. 

“Could we order take out or would that take too long?” 

“We don’t even know where we are, why don’t we just go for the nearest restaurant?” 

On and on it went. 

Either the constant ideas being thrown around, or the blood rushing to my brain was causing a headache to pinch between my eyes. 

“Wanda and I will choose because we haven’t eaten in over 24 hours so we get first dibs on food.” I ground out, the background arguing of Sam’s pro Subway vs Scott’s anti fading away.

“Anything works for me, I’m not picky.” 

Wanda said that smoothly, dropping into the conversation as you would rip off a bandaid. 

I groaned loudly. So much for relying on Wanda to back me up. 

“I vote...McDonalds, there decision final.” 

At once Clint started to complain, “Really, Mcdonalds?” I rolled my eyes, and twisted into a sitting position, the head rush making me swoon, “you know I can’t stand their nuggets.”

Chuckling, I tried to blow loose hair out of my face, “Actually I don’t, we literally just met yesterday, Hawk.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Wanda’s light laugh filtered in from my neighbor cell. Both Sam and Scott had picked up their pro nuggets vs. anti nuggets debate. 

“They do have McDonalds all over the world so it’s more likely we'll find one wherever we are.” Wanda supplied, working through the logistics of our dinner plans.

“About that...you got an ETA on Steve’s arrival or what?” Sam asked, his argument with Scott breaking off after they both agreed on nuggets being 2% real chicken and therefore not great. 

Shrugging, I leaned against the cold cement wall. I had been cold for so long in this damn cell I didn’t think I’d feel the warmth of the sun again. 

“It’s kinda rude to ‘pop’ in on him all the time, I think I’ll just let it be a surprise, it’s more natural that way.” 

I smacked my dried lips, and whistled a wobbly tune as I waited for their responses. 

Truthfully, I  _ did  _ think it was weird to check in on Steve all the time. It was an invasion of privacy. 

So what if I do it to Peter maybe a couple times a day, that’s different. 

Peter’s a dork and is prone to accident, he needs a little looking after. 

But Captain America? Yeah, I don’t want to see something I’d regret. 

Can’t fuck up the friendship when it’s just getting off the ground. 

I trusted Steve. 

He was on his way, I knew it. He just had to take care of Bucky first, that was the most important thing. 

Maybe he dropped him off at Romanoff’s place, maybe she was hitching a ride here too. 

“Yeah that sounds great, ‘more natural’ approach-” Clint’s sarcastic rant was cut off as the lights in the chamber flickered.

Their shining LED’s turned off, only the brightness from our individual cells lit the enclosed space. 

The rest of the chamber was thrown into darkness, not even the large metal door could be seen. 

Perfect timing, Captain.

“Hm” I teased, “ I wonder what that could be.”

Clint grumbled in his cell, but was drowned out by the screech of metal on concrete, the door was sliding open. 

The outline of a man was pressed on a background of dull red. 

The fixtures in the hallway were pulsing in a constant stream of dull light. 

Broad chest, confident walk, but no shield. 

For a moment fear crept into my chest, my breath getting caught in my throat. What if it wasn’t Steve. 

There was no way for us to see his face without him walking toward our cells. He could see us but we couldn’t see him. 

With a steady pace the man walked into the center of the room, light from all five of our cells shining on the blonde of his hair. 

“Steve!” I called out, at once the fear melting away into a puddle of relief. 

Blue eyes locked on each of us, and he offered a loose smile to Sam. 

The tension of his shoulders moving with each exhale. 

There wasn’t a scratch on him, if I didn’t know better I’d say Ross just let him walk right in. 

“It’s good to see you, Cap.” Sam said, rapping a knuckle on the edge of the glass before him. 

Steve raised one arm to rub at the back of his neck, a habit he had. 

“Well you didn’t think I’d leave my team behind did you?” He asked sheepishly. 

He always seemed to be holding two people inside him, but he switched between them seamlessly. 

Captain America and his righteous do-gooder personality meshing with what I thought was Steve Rogers, humble, soft,  _ kind,  _ and they were all bundled into one person. 

“Not for a minute.” 

“You mind getting us out of these cells?” Clint asked, a smile in his tone. 

Someone must have pointed to the opposite walls because Steve turned, looking for the button that would set us free. 

He jogged swiftly over to the side, and in the next moment, one of the glass panels was sliding away from the cell. 

I stood, aching to get out of the small space. 

Steve’s eyes found mine in a burst of electricity. 

A bit of the soldier leaked in as he raked his vision over my form, flitting between me and Wanda next door. 

I wished I could comb my hair back, or wipe the bags from under my eyes. 

Something hardened in his face, I could make out the sharp clench of his jaw from here. 

I jumped as hands grabbed onto me, and met the searching gaze of Clint. 

I hadn’t noticed the cell was completely open. 

Tearing my eyes away from Steve, I focused on Clint's hands. 

In the back, I could make out Sam and Scott stretching as they walked out of the cell. 

Steve had gone to Wanda to help her out. 

The straight jacket was the first to go. 

Curling and uncurling my fingers I bent my good arm, letting the muscles move again. 

Clint held my elbow, and I gratefully leaned into his warm side, letting him unwrap the constrictive fabric from my body. 

My hand clamped down on his shoulder, and I held his gaze, a ‘thank you’ plain on my face. 

Clint smiled, the crinkles by his eyes standing out. He used his undershirt to make an impromptu sling for my shoulder. 

The ache was almost nonexistent, but after one attempt at straightening it, I knew it still had a long way to heal. 

We gathered in the middle of the space together. 

Clint’s arm thrown over my shoulder as we took our place in the assembled circle. 

Sam on one side of me and Clint on the other. 

The former gave me a worried yet comforting squeeze on the arm, his brown eyes holding mine. 

Steve nodded, taking stock of his team.

He smiled as he met my eye, and then his gaze darted down to my throat. 

Instinctively my hand shot up, and I gasped at the cold metal I found under my fingertips. 

I can’t believe I had forgotten. 

“Please, get this off me.”

Steve took a step forward, his boot scraping on the cement. 

Wanda caught his arm. Her hair long about her shoulders, and hanging in tangled knots. 

Red seeped into her pupils as she raised a free hand in my direction. 

Wisps of power left her fingers and wrapped around both of our throats. The collar beeped once, and then stopped, the red light on the side halting. It came off in my hand, a heap of warm metal, I let it fall to my feet.

Overcome I raced toward her, and wrapped my one good arm around her slim frame. My nose pressed into her hair as she held me back just as tight. 

“Thank you” I choked out, squeezing her to me even harder. 

Wanda laughed against my hair, her hand petting and running through the locks soothingly.

“No, thank you,  _ siostra _ .” 

As we parted I slid back against Clint, and his arm came up like a warm weight against my back. 

“Ok, let’s get out of here before Ross shows up and ruins the moment.” 

Everyone laughed, and together we started to walk out of the chamber. 

The hallway spewed pulsing red lights, and there was a unconscious body here or there, but we stepped over them. 

If I happened to accidently crush a couple fingers, it wasn’t my fault. 

“Ross won’t be a problem.”

Clint had moved to walk up front with Sam, and they traded words quietly. 

Scott and Wanda walked behind them in companionable silence. 

Steve and I held up the back, walking side by side, his shoulder bumping into mine every once in a while. 

I shot him a glance out of the corner of my eye. 

“Did you take care of him?” I asked slyly, my elbow poking him in the gut. 

Whatever Steve did to Ross I’m sure he deserved it. 

“One sucker punch to the jaw and he was out like a light.” 

We laughed together, our hurried footsteps echoing down the hall. 

I guessed that we were heading back to the main chamber, the one where we flew in. 

Steve wasn’t one to do things without flare. Did he just fly in and then start knocking guys unconscious? 

At least I wouldn’t have to see Ross again, hopefully. 

I stopped in my tracks, catching the sleeve of Steve’s shirt. 

“Wait! What about our suits?”

The others had stopped as well, but Steve laid a warm hand over my shoulder, a smile on his lips, “Already in the quinjet.”

Of course they were already in the quinjet. 

We continued to walk down the hall, and then finally entered the chamber. 

The sleek black jet from my vision was docked there, the back already open. 

In pairs we boarded. I plopped down into a sea next to Scott, he helped to secure the buckle over my form. 

Leaning back, I finally allowed myself to relax. 

We were out of prison. 

But now the hard part starts. 

Clint had jumped into the pilot seat, Steve standing over the back of his chair. 

Sam and Wanda sat in front of me. 

The closing of the door was the last I saw of The Raft. 

“Where are we headed?” I called forward. 

Clint didn’t turn back, but flipped a couple switches and the engine roared to life. 

“One of Nat’s safe houses for now.”

I nodded, made sense. 

That was probably where Steve took Bucky. 

I’m sure he’d wait to tell us everything until we were there. 

I didn’t really think I needed to know where the safe house was, as long as we were safe. 

Steve turned back around, a lock of blonde hair falling over his forehead. 

He gave me a soft smile as he caught me watching him. 

My eyebrows shot up as my stomach growled.

Wanda chuckled from across the way.

“Hey Steve.” I called out, “Can we stop at McDonalds on the way there?”

He shot me an amused look, turning his head as Clint said something is response I couldn’t make out. 

“Nah,” Steve said, patting Clint on the shoulder as he made his way through the cabin, “Nat’s got plenty of food at home.”

I scowled. 

Clint you asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translation: 
> 
> floja: lazy  
> delicioso: delicious
> 
> siostra means sister in polish - idk what they speak in Sokovia but It was said to be near the areas where polish is spoken. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments my pals.


	12. Safety First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team makes it out safely. Lena battles with what it means to be on a team. She hears from Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry this took so long, school has been prettyyyy stressful these last few weeks.
> 
> I've been struggling with how to incorporate all my ideas into the story + keep up with the movies too. 
> 
> I hope you like it...it's kinda long lol  
> thanks for comments and kudos!!
> 
> ALSO Can't believe I'm seeing Endgame today gonna barf I'm excited
> 
> Lead on brave readers!  
> \- Emma

Romanoff’s place was...functional.

It was a small complex.  Two bedrooms, one bath, and kitchen, all buried in the middle of metropolitan Caracas, Venezuela.

The prison we were held in, the Raft, was afloat in the middle of the Atlantic.

Romanoff had safe houses in every continent, but going back to the U.S. was a bad idea considering the circumstances.

Better to stay out of Europe too, given the whole ‘we demolished an entire airport’ thing.

So Venezuela was the next best choice, and lucky for me, I could speak the language.

Actually, there were a couple spanish speakers in our little group. Romanoff for one,  Clint too...and Scott which was a nice surprise.

Scott had given no explanation after bursting into colorful spanish expletives during the bumpy quinjet landing. Other than “I gotta get ready for Venezuela” and “my prison buddy hooked me up”. I wasn’t sure who this buddy was, but it wasn’t me.

We had to emergency land the quinjet, and the forest was the best cover we could afford.

My shoulder ached from slamming into the rigid seat at my back, and the jarring landing had thrown open compartments, random objects were strewn across the floor in massive heaps.

Clint swerved around the trees the best he could but the moment we crashed into the soft earth he slid out of his chair, wagging a finger “Any of you tell Nat, I shave your head while you sleep.”

The hike in was strenuous, scraped hands curling over rough boulders and around broken bark, everything so dark you could barely see the person walking in front of you.

Venezuelan mountains were pitch black when the sun went down.

Moving in close pairs, we made our way into the city proper, dodging behind cars and sketchy corners.

I walked with Sam. No one batted an eye at our matching blue uniforms, they were nothing compared to the rickety alleyways and sketchy neighborhoods we passed.

Sam kept a steady hand on my elbow as he lead me through the twists and turns in search of Romanoff’s place.

He would curl me to his chest, ducking my head into his shoulder when we even so much as _thought_ there were cameras nearby. Cops, people, heavy traffic, anything. My nerves felt fried by the time we got to the safe house.

We slipped through a side gate, walked down a hallway covered overtop in reaching vines and knocked quietly on a back door, which was almost invisible save for the glint of a silver doorknob.

Sam and I were the last to arrive, and I still had no idea how he knew how to get there.

The colorful buildings of the city were a stark contrast to the sleek modern interior in the safe house.

Black geometric sofa, polished counters, and thick grey curtains covered the windows.

The moment we had entered the space, the exhaustion kicked in.

Bodies were strewn across the room. Steve puttered in the kitchen, the dull light from the fridge obscuring his face.

I gingerly lowered myself onto the couch, my thighs quivering from the long walk, and immediately threw my head back, ready for a nap.

It was past midnight, and the sky was already turning bluer, the sun making its way over the Eastern mountains.

Everyone had stayed in the main living space. I counted six, the whole team was there.

No sign of Romanoff or Bucky.

It was a large living room, couch and TV attached to a small space with a table. 

A darkened hallway slipped into view by the TV, but no one dared walk down it.

I didn’t think anyone had the balls to snoop through Romanoff’s house. I definitely didn’t.

The couch was hard, but it curved around my shape, soothing the aches and pains. One leg folded under my body as the other dangled off the edge of the black square cushion.

Wanda sat next to me, her own knee bumping into my side as she continuously shifted position.

Sam, Scott and Steve sat at a round table near the kitchen, one singular lamp illuminating dull yellow light onto their bowed heads.

Scott, his head rested in his arms, mumbled “Man, going big and escaping supermax really wipes you out.” before he passed out onto the cold surface.

Sam with a hand propped under his chin, and Steve leaning back in the small chair, broad arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the rest of us.

Sharp eyes roamed around the room. A troubled look would pass over his face as he searched down the dim hallway toward other hidden pockets in the house.

Maybe Bucky was down there.

Clint had leaned against the couch, his head a dead weight on the front of my shin. The blonde of his hair twisted in golden strands as the sun peaked out from the window by the couch.

His eyes shot open just as the door clicked closed behind Romanoff.

We were brought back to the world of the living, my leg prickling with its dead weight as I moved it next to Clint.

She wore a loose cap, it was pulled down over her eyes, and her short red hair was clipped in a low bun at the base of her skull.

There was a twist to her lips as she took in our sprawling forms.

The last time I had seen her, she put me on my ass. Twice.

Romanoff slid in next to Sam at the table, and set down three large bags by his feet, hefting a pink pastry box in front of him. Flour seeped out of the corners and painted flakey white boundaries around it.

It was the first bit of food we were offered. Somehow, I didn’t think the safe house was as stocked as it could be, it seemed too pristine, too ‘un-liveable’. Or maybe Romanoff just survived off sheer will, no need for breakfast when you’re a superhero.

Clint groaned as he pushed off the ground, and I hooked my good arm around his elbow so he could pull me to my feet with him.

I swayed gently, my shoulder aching within its sling. I should get somebody to check it out. Clint shot me an assessing glance, obviously seeing the pain that lanced across my face.  His DIY technique had worked so far, I didn’t see it failing anytime soon...but getting the shoulder looked at wouldn’t be a bad thing.

We all gathered around the table in a swarm, Romanoff stepped back, one hip propped against the wall by the door. Intelligent eyes followed even the slightest movement in her space.  

I offered her a slip of a smile as I reached to slide open the pastry box, and a ghost of a nod was sent in my direction.

Clint knocked my hand out of the way playfully, reaching for the pastries first.

Flipping the box open, hands darted out immediately, dragging crumbs along my arm as the team sat back with their snack.

I elbowed Clint harshly in the side, his empanada dripping jelly onto the table, but he twisted out of the way to lean next to Romanoff on the door, two bites and his pastry was gone.

He pulled out another one from somewhere, a pocket? Do our prison uniforms have pockets?

There were two left by the time I turned my attention back to the box.

Glancing up, Sam and Scott held an empanada in each hand, jelly drizzling down the sleeve of Scott’s shirt.

Wanda stood in the back near the hallway, chewing thoughtfully as her eyes roamed around the apartment.

Neither Steve nor Romanoff grabbed one of the sweets.

Steve met me in an unflinching gaze, his eyebrows lifted as if to say, ‘Take them, their yours.’, and I scooped the last empanadas into my hand.

The pastry was delicious. It burst in my mouth, the soft shell giving way to sweetened apple jam, and I closed my eyes as I savored it.

It was gone in three bites.

My empty stomach clenched painfully against the new food, I guess I should have slowed down a little bit.

“We’ll have to go back out for a food run soon.” Romanoff cut in. The half chewed pastry in my mouth caking in the back of my throat, “Safe houses aren’t usually meant for eight.”

Eight. So Bucky _was_ here, somewhere.

She caught my eye just as she made the distinction, and she knew that everyone else had understood it too.

Not only had she moved the conversation toward Siberia and the mission, but also established priorities _and_ implied the stupidity of all staying in a safe house together.

What a woman.

I raised my eyebrows, looking around at the faces circling the table, wondering which topic we’d choose to address first.

Clint straightened next to her on the wall, wiping a sticky hand down the front of his shirt, “We’ll make it work.”

We were staying together. Clint realized it was stupid, but sometimes the stupid call was best.

He met my eyes, a small wink sent my way.

Romanoff definitely didn’t miss that interaction, and a twitch of her cheek was no indication of what she thought of it.

It’s not like I made Clint decide to be stupid, he does that all on his own.

Nobody else had rejected the idea. Staying together was important at this point.

I stood at the table, my fingers drumming aimlessly against the top, the nails on my hand bitten down to nubs.

The apartment was quiet. Not even the waking city, or early drizzle of car horns could be heard.

Steve’s seat creaked under his weight as he leaned forward, the thin t-shirt he wore pulled tight over his biceps. He slotted his hands together onto the table, blue eyes caught in something none of us could see.

It was time to talk about what happened in Siberia.

Unconsciously, my hands began to sweat.

I moved to stand behind Scott, my thighs pressed into the back of his seat.

Steve sighed, and his fingers laced and unlaced. I didn’t think he knew where to start.

He met Romanoff’s eye briefly, and found in her gaze whatever he needed to find.

“When we got to the base in Siberia, Zemo had us cornered.” Stave pushed against the table and exhaled harshly, “we were exactly where he wanted us to be”

His eyebrows furrowed, and Steve's thumb massaged harsh circles into the back of one hand.

“Zemo?” Scott urged, he was following the conversation quickly, but his body was loose in the chair.

Sam nodded, “Sokovian, ex-military, he...abducted Barnes back in Berlin, disguised himself as the head Doc.”

“He framed Bucky for the bombings in Vienna, and used-” Steve shook his head, hands clenching into powerful fists, “he used Buck’s _past_ against him.”

Fragments of news broadcasts came to mind. Sitting in the kitchen with May, waiting for Peter to get home, fire and smoke cast on the television as the anchor insisted James Buchanan Barnes was the bomber. A blurry photo which seemed dubious at best but painted Bucky’s face in red.

I knew Bucky, he wouldn’t bomb an entire building of people.

Berlin was an unknown factor in this. I had no idea what had gone down, but I guessed it was the start of it all.

Stark showed up on our footstep hours later. A blossoming bruise under one eye, that I guessed was caused by this Zemo guy too.

Romanoff straightened against the wall, dark eyes glinting in the dim light, “We thought he wanted to reprogram Hydra’s death squad. Wake up the other Winter Soldiers, but instead he killed them all”

Hydra? The name shot unconscious fear down my spine, I _knew_ the name. Hydra. It connected to the fall of SHIELD from a couple years back. Shadowed, blackened data that wrecked my computer after Peter and I tried to hack into the info dump. Within all the swirls of unimportant data, was the curl of a tentacle and the chill of a red stamp. Yeah, Hydra was bad news.

The Winter Soldier was a name I had never heard. Coming from Romanoff’s lips, it sounded like the scratch of metal on ice.

I was being given the information, but didn’t understand. Steve and Romanoff traded fast quips across the table, but I didn’t have the means to connect it all.

Dully, I realized that everyone in this room knew more than I did.

They were briefed for this mission, and I was just a random tagalong.

Clint and Sam, even Scott were hanging off every word leaving Steve’s mouth. Their faces pinched and darkening every second.

Steve was incredibly tensed, his body poised between explosive anger and liquid exhaustion. He looked like a man who was holding himself up by the skin of his teeth.

“...and then Tony showed up.”

My hands tightened on the back of Scott’s chair, pulse skyrocketing upward. What did Stark do? Was it my fault?

“Did Stark do it?” I bit my tongue, but the sentence was already out, “Did he-with Bucky- was he the one-” I trailed off unsure what I wanted to say.

I knew what I had seen. Bucky bloody and beat, ragged shards of metal where his arm used to be. Steve, purple bruises along his face, which already had seeped a sickly yellow, almost invisible if you didn’t know what to look for.

My eyes widened, realizing the mistake. None of the team knew about Bucky. I hadn’t told them. I said both Steve and Bucky had made it out safe, but I didn’t tell them what it had cost.

Romanoff’s eyes bored into mine, a steel rod seamingly holding us together as the wheels turned in her mind.

I could barely meet Steve’s eyes, but he too straightened in his chair, he was intimidating under the dim light.

“How did you know about Tony?” Romanoff shot out.

My mouth went dry, the exhaustion bleeding away to rolling panic in my gut as I searched for a way to explain myself.

“Lena has more power than she let on.” Wanda stepped forward, lithe frame slipping from the shadows  as she addressed the group, “she is able to visualize people she knows, to see them in real time. She saw Steve and Bucky returning from Siberia in a vision.”

There was a beat of silence before Clint stepped forward as well, “Its true, she saw them both. We even knew you were coming to bust us out of the Raft.” This, Clint addressed toward Steve.

I was nervous, my hands shaping hard imprints to the leather seat back in front of me.

Steve met my gaze quizzically, but I saw neither malice or uncomfortable tightness in his face.

Was it too much of a stretch to say he trusted me?

Blue eyes met Romanoff’s over on the side, and her own gaze slid slightly over toward the hallway.

They didn’t know _exactly_ what I had seen. They didn’t know how much I knew.

“Did you-” Steve stopped, searching my face. “Did you see-”

“No I didn’t, Steve-I-I couldn’t watch that.” I looked away, my cheeks flaming red, but guilt choked me as I watched the pain flurry in his blue eyes. “ _Please_ tell me it wasn’t Stark. That he didn’t do _that.”_ My own eyes flickered down the dark hallway, Bucky first on my mind. Somehow I wished it was this Zemo guy, or the winter soldiers, or anyone else. I had sent Stark, and it might have been because of me that people got hurt.

Everyone waited in bated breath. We had all seen Stark, seen his remorse painted in the gaunt lines of his face and none of us wanted to believe he could turn like that.

Steve shifted his eyes, and I watched as Sam shot him a supportive nod.

“When Bucky and I got to the base in Siberia, we thought we’d be up against super soldiers, weapons made from Hydra’s followers...but we were wrong. Zemo didn’t want the winter soldiers. He didn’t want anything to do with Hydra. He wanted _us.”_

The scabs over his knuckles split as Steve balled both hands into fists. Blood left a wet streak against the grey table top as he pulled his hands back against his torso.

It was a brighter red than the globs of jam left over from our snack.

“He bet on Tony showing up, and then he sprung the trap with us inside.”

Everyone in the room waited for the pin to drop.

“Zemo had played us, he blamed us for the death of his family.”

Wanda broke the silence, her hand cupped around her mouth in disbelief, “Sokovia.”

I felt like I was standing on the outside, looking in.

“He wanted us to feel what he felt. Zemo said he wanted to see an empire fall, and it worked.” There was a wry twist to his mouth that I had never seen before, “We turned on each other, brought others in to fight our fights, and people got hurt in the process.”

Bucky. Rhodes.

I was an other.

Something that had tagged along and gotten so involved it couldn’t remove itself from the equation.

I’d gone to prison for this.

“So Zemo framed Barnes, and relied on it to split the team.” Romanoff pushed off the wall, arms crossing over her chest, “Either he planned to do it _during_ the Accords ratification, or he got lucky. What we don’t know is how he knew it would be enough.”

“He knew that it wasn’t”

“What do you mean?” Clint said, he leaned back against the wall,  attempting to come off as calm but the set to his jaw said otherwise.

“The bombing and the split over the Accords worked, sure, but it wasn’t enough to _really_ break the team apart. We could have worked it out after the airport fight, it would’ve taken time and a hell of a lot of patience, but we could have done it.”

Something ugly curled in the pit of my stomach. Dread.

“Zemo used something else, something more…” Clint trailed off, watching the icy regret seep into Steve’s eyes, “...something to do with Tony.”

I inhaled sharply through my nose. It _was_ Stark. Something this Zemo guy did, set Stark off on a rampage.

Steve sat back, and I could see him bite harshly at the inside of his cheek. “It wasn’t Tony’s fault, I should have seen it coming, should have prevented it. I was just so set on finding Buck that I didn’t think of anything else.” He shook his head, a strand of blonde hair hanging down his forehead. “Tony caught up to us in Siberia, and Zemo knew exactly what to say to light the match.”

Guilt had always been a growing sickness inside me.

I drowned in guilt for years.

My parents could have been saved if I had done more.

If I had fought harder-been better-been _more._

Guilt.

Bucky wouldn’t have gotten hurt if I hadn’t told Stark where they were.

“Steve,” I had to tell them. I sent Stark their way. Zemo used me too. I was a piece in his game and I hadn’t even known I was playing. “Stark-I-It was-”

“We sent Stark your way.”

My eyebrows shot up as I whipped around to stare at Sam.

He took the breath right out of my lungs and I coughed hard, trying to force myself to start breathing again.

“We kind of guessed that.” Romanoff said slyly, “Ross was never one to overlook his staff reports. He logged Tony’s visit, right before he showed up in Siberia. It made sense.”

“Yeah well, we thought he was going as a friend.”

We. We sent Stark. We thought.

I shouldn’t be here.

All of us were talking about the splitting of the Avengers, and I was here making it even harder to piece the team back together!

They were taking the blame for my mistakes.

I hate it when I can’t own up to my own shit. Sure, it was hard, but it was _mine_ to deal with.

I spluttered, unsure if I should expose the truth, or just follow in Clint and Sam’s footsteps.

It reminded me once again, I wasn’t a part of this team.

Hell, I was a stray dog they couldn’t shake.

“Zemo had old Hydra records, past missions, past kills, but he was only interested in one - on December 16th, 1991.”

Clint started, surprise flickering on his face, then realization, and finally understanding.

I saw it shift across Romanoff’s face too. They knew exactly what it meant.

“Coulson drilled that date into us. He always wished he could meet Stark Sr., or at least fangirl over what SHIELD was like before it got off the ground...he had his theories about his death too”

I was even more confused.

Whatever it was that caused Stark to break had to do with his father?

“Sam and I pieced it together after the Triskelion fell.”

The others nodded, understanding what I did not.

“Bucky-” Steve stopped, red rimmed eyes finding mine, and then darting around the room.

Blue eyes kept coming back to mine and I grew more wary after every second.

Was he trying to say something he didn’t want me to hear?

Maybe it was too personal. Whatever happened between Stark and Steve wasn’t my business.

I wasn’t an Avenger, and I didn’t think I had the right to _know._

Unclenching my hands from the back of Scott’s chair, I took a staggered step backwards. The scuffle of my shoes was loud and made me wince.

It was for the better. Clint, Sam, Wanda, and Scott were Avengers. They had a place at the table.

“I-I...need to use the bathroom.”

I spun on my heel, letting their shapes blur behind a curtain of dark hair before I darted down the hallway.

There was no scrape of a chair, or thud of a footstep that followed, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt just a little bit.

Three seperate doors lined the shadowed hallway.

A simple light fixture was set on one wall, but it barely emitted a yellow glow onto the wall beneath it.

The three doors were closed. One had to be a bathroom, right?

Muted voices echoed down the hall, but I tried to shut them out, not wanting to hear something I wasn’t supposed to.

I’ll just hide in the bathroom until they’re done talking. Then I’ll figure it out from there.

Sucking in a quick breath, I slid open one of the doors and peaked inside.

Under a covered window there was the outline of a bed. Passing cars from outside threw shadows across the room.  

I could barely make out the shape of a dresser on the side of the door, but it was too dark to see much else. The walls pressed in from each side, making the space feel smaller than it probably was.

A beam of light spilled from a cracked door in the left corner.

A bathroom.

I looked back over my shoulder, but the hallway as empty, the same gray walls only exposed by one single yellow bulb.

My feet shuffled across the floor, hoping to god I wasn’t going to stub a toe or trip over my feet.

I had almost reached the bathroom door, one hand stretched out to swing it open when a voice croaked out behind me.

“Natalia?”

Jumping, I cursed as my elbow met with the door handle.

There was slight movement out of the corner of my eye, a black shadow reared up out of the dark.

I got no closer to the sliver of light coming from the bathroom before a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

My knees buckled, the hard grip making me see white for an instant. I could _feel_ the tender bones in my shoulder rubbing in their joint.

“Ow! _fuck!”_ I struggled to hold myself upright, reaching for the door handle blindly, but as I felt my knees bend under my weight I threw out my arm.

The bathroom door swung open wide, light spilled over the scene and I blinked wildly as my eyes tried to adjust to the shadow looming over me.

He was pale. Dark circles under his eyes accompanied the bluish bruise lining his stubbled jaw. His lips were puckered red from stained blood or cracked seems, I didn’t know, but it looked painful.

“Bucky?” I panted, his hand still a heavy weight on my shoulder which sent hot angry pulses up my arm.  

He squinted down at me, his eyes trailing from his hand on my shoulder up to my face, and I slowly saw the realization creep over his expression.

As if burnt he let go, and I sagged down, holding my body up by my left hand.

“Lena?” He choked, the dark circles even more prominent as he stared at me incredulously.

And then he began to stagger. His feet shuffled  and I watched in horror as he clamped his eyes shut trying to stay standing.

Bucky’s right arm slammed into the wall above me as he shook his head, trying to get rid of the dizziness. This close, he smelled like antiseptic wipes, and something metallic, something tangy that made my nostrils burn.

My knees stung from hitting the ground, and Bucky caged me in under his body as I looked up from the floor. His hair fell over his eyes, but still I could make out the piercing blue irises.

I pushed myself up, ducking under his arm to slide my body against his side.

“Woah there buddy, let’s get you back in bed.”

Sliding my good arm around his waist I turned him in the right direction. Not so much as helping him lay down, but more of like a friendly nudge toward the unmade bed. Weak and sick as he was, Bucky was still all muscle.

I shook my head in disbelief. Why didn’t I see him when I walked in?

Jesus, Lena.

He let out a shallow groan as he was lowered down onto the bed.

The sheets tangled around his feet, and as I moved to yank them free I caught a glimpse of his left arm.

It was bandaged tightly. The bright white of the wrap reflected what little light was in the room. I diverted my gaze as Bucky settled into the bed, but I couldn’t erase the image of broken metal shards and blood like rust that flashed in my mine. I knew what was under that wrap.

“What happened to your shoulder?” Bucky’s eyes found mine even in the dark.

I gingerly sat on the edge of his bed, his thigh hot under the covers as it leaned against mine.

Shrugging the best I could, I shot him a smirk, “Stark happened...How about you?” I said, nodding toward his left side.

Bucky chuckled softly, “Stark.” He was quiet for a moment, and a car drove by the window overhead, its shadow rolling over the both of us.

“Steve broke you out?”

“Yeah.”

I fingered the edge of my blue uniform. The cuff was dirty, either from the walk in, or from jam. It didn’t matter. I wanted to take it off.

“That’s good.”

I snorted. Yeah it was good. No more prison for me.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyes going far away for a moment.

The blood had been washed off his face, but I thought I could still see it stained onto his skin. 

“They’re debriefing...and you’re in here” He ended on a question. A curious spark lit his eyes as they landed on me.

I guess there was no use in lying to him.

“I told Stark you were in Siberia.” I mumbled, “and I shouldn’t-I’m not one of you. It’s personal, what they’re talking about.”

Bucky searched my face. I could only guess at what he saw.

Irritated scab lining my cheek. Lank hair drooping over my shoulders. A slightly purple ring around my neck from a metal shock collar.

“Did you know what was gonna happen?”

My mouth popped open, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No, but-”

“Did the others ask you to leave the room?”

“Not really-”

“Then I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, doll.” Bucky sighed, his head surrounded by the fluff of the pillows behind him. His brown hair curled under his chin.

I frowned at him. He didn’t understand.

“If I hadn’t told Stark where you were, you’d still have an arm.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered down to the stub on his left, before looking away. I didn’t move a muscle. He had to understand. I needed someone to tell me I was right.

“Stark would have done it anyway, didn’t matter when.”

“But-”

I was frustrated, and I could feel the balls of my cheeks turning red.

“I killed his parents.”

The fire died in me all at once.

“Wh-what?” I stuttered quietly. My voice sounding small even in my own ears.

Bucky didn’t look at me, but his jaw was tight as he gazed at the ceiling.

His teeth ground in his mouth as he worked through what he was trying to say.

“December 16th, 1991. The mission was completed. I retrieved what Hydra wanted, and then they used it to make more winter soldiers.”  

A memory came to mind. Sitting in the kitchen with May, the TV on and a static-y anchor spouting information over a backdrop of smoke and fire.

_...no way to know if the assumed terrorist was indeed James Buchanan Barnes, The Winter Soldier, thought to be responsible for the Vienna UN Bombings earlier this week…_

Bucky. The Winter Soldier.

I pretended to know what that meant, but the name only conjured up blurry pictures and false accusations in my mind.

He saw the wariness on my face.

I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“They made me forget. Took who I was away from me.” Bucky stared blindly, but bit at the inside of his cheek harshly, “Stark called my name, and then I felt his skull break between my hands.”

There was nothing to say. I felt my mind go blank, in shock, or confusion, or fear, _pity_ , I had no idea.

I knew Bucky didn’t bomb the UN in Vienna. Steve, confirmed that.

The _they_ Bucky talked about was Hydra.

Hydra that was behind the fall of SHIELD. Hydra that fed Zemo his secrets?

“Did you _want_ to kill them?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? The justification in my eyes.

I didn’t like Stark, I didn’t want to sympathize with him, but a little part of me understood his violence.

“I didn’t have a choice.” Bucky echoed.

Everything connected in one giant sweep.

Zemo framed Bucky, zemo baited him and Steve to Siberia, Zemo used Bucky’s past to make Stark explode.

If Bucky said he didn’t have a choice, I had no reason not to believe him.

I wasn’t heartless enough to pry the pain from his eyes, to ask and ask in order to get all of the information out of him.

Knowing _enough_ was fine.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Bucky said with finality, and I met his gaze evenly.

There was anguish in his eyes, hatred, and pain.

I jerked backwards in surprise, not sure who should be comforting who given the situation.

“It wasn’t your fault either.” He dragged his eyes away from mine just to huff out a big breath of air, the hair under his chin rose and then fell with the movement. “It was that Zemo guy and Hydra, _pinche cabrones_.”

Bucky looked at me incredulously, and I could only smile back in response.

He couldn’t scare me off that easily.

I didn’t know the guy that well, but I thought he had a habit of making people run before ever giving them a chance.

Well, I’ve got some big _cojones_ and I’m not good at running from things I probably should.

There was a knock against the doorframe, and Bucky and I both turned, just to see Steve leaning into the room a question on the tip of his tongue.

He looked tired, but the tense weight that had been on his shoulders since the prison break was gone just a little bit.

Checking one hip against the door way, Steve crossed his arms in front of his body, eyes darting between Bucky on the bed and me sitting next to him.

“Bucky and I were just catching up,” I said, nudging my elbow into the side of Bucky’s thigh, “You guys done out there?”

Steve’s nod was tight, and he watched as I stood from the bed, stretching one arm up over my head. My back felt so sore.

Bucky’s bed looked so soft, I pressed one hand into the soft cushion and sighed before making my way toward Steve at the door.

I shot a soft smile back at Bucky, but he barely met my eye, stormy gaze locked on Steve over my shoulder.

“See you later, Buck. Get some sleep.”

I pushed around Steve’s form as he blocked the entryway. My head reached to his shoulder, and the heat he gave off took up the whole hallway.

He mumbled something to Bucky as he shut the door softly behind us, and then turned toward me.

There was noise coming from the kitchen, the beep of a microwave and the sound of the TV powering on.

I leaned back on a gray wall, absentmindedly rubbing at my injured shoulder.

Steve ducked his head, eyes shining, “We missed you back there.”

He nodded toward the kitchen.

The sun had finally come up, and there was light creeping down the hallway like lava from the open living room.

“Bucky filled me in on...the basics.” Shrugging the best I could, I blew a piece of hair out of my face.

Steve hummed, “You know, you didn’t have to run away.”

“Wh-what? Psh, I never run.”

He raised his eyebrows, and the look he shot said ‘you’re lying.’ and he wasn’t wrong.

“Lena,” He sighed, moving to lean next to me on the wall. Our arms pressed warmly together, and I looked down, nudging the toe of my scuffed boot against his.

He nudged back, and the curl of a smirk hit his lips. “You’re a part of the team now, no need to hide.”

It was hard to believe. I think over the past week I’d struggled with that more than anything. I was on a team now.

“I just didn’t think-”

“You _are_ one of us. Whatever you need, you’ve got the support.”

_Support._

“Yeah, I’m starting to believe I can’t get rid of you guys that easy.”

He laughed softly, arms pressing even tighter together.

I quieted, there was something I had to do.

Something, I’d been waiting to do and someone I’d been waiting to see.

“Ok, this is gonna look bad, but I _promise_ that I’ll be back, 2-3 hours tops.”

Shoving off the wall, I cracked the knuckles on my left hand.

“Lena-”

I cut him off, "Go on that food run, Romanoff was talking about. Pizza sounds  _fucking great_ right about now."

The swirl of a blue portal opened at my back and Steve’s eyes widened, he threw out a hand, but I jumped, falling backwards in space.

I need to see Peter.

Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translation:
> 
> pinche cabrones: fucking bastards
> 
> cojones: balls
> 
> What will Peter say when he sees Lena? How will she handle going back to her empty apartment? 
> 
> Let me know what you think! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish Translation:
> 
> Mijita/Mija: My daughter, little daughter (term of endearment, not literally)  
> araña : spider  
> Ay dios mio: oh my god  
> No soy una mentirosa: I'm not a liar  
> Te quiero mucho: I love you a lot
> 
> Fideo is a soup and it's delicious
> 
> also Peter is a dork and I love him 
> 
> Review/Comment pls!


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